Horizon | C.JH , K.YS | rewrite

{9}

Yeosang shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Jongho sat across from him in his lavishly appointed office, his penetrating gaze making Yeosang feel exposed, as if the man could peer directly into his soul. Jongho's fingers tapped rhythmically on a statue atop his desk, the room filled with the scent of his expensive cologne.

The office exuded an air of wealth and power, lined with shelves of books and scattered papers amidst elegant paintings adorning the walls. The atmosphere made Yeosang feel dizzy, his head swimming from inhaling Jongho's overpowering fragrance.

Does he want me to speak first? Yeosang wondered, stealing a quick glance up at Jongho before dropping his gaze to his lap. Jongho remained motionless, his head tilted slightly to the side, observing Yeosang like a monarch surveying his domain. It was impossible to predict what Jongho might do next.

Yeosang's leg bounced nervously beneath the table, a silent testament to his growing impatience and anxiety as the oppressive silence stretched on.

"I told you that you can look at me," Jongho's sudden voice shattered the quiet, sending a jolt of embarrassment through Yeosang. The memory of their earlier encounter flooded his mind, the heat rising in his cheeks as he recalled Jongho's teasing words.

"Sorry," Yeosang mumbled, his gaze still lowered.

Jongho remained silent, leaning forward with his arms resting on the table. His intense gaze bore into Yeosang, who wished he could disappear into the chair beneath him.

"Stop apologising to me," Jongho's voice was firm, commanding, causing Yeosang to exhale heavily in frustration.

"Sorry..." Yeosang began to apologise again, but caught himself mid-sentence, his eyes darting away from Jongho. There was something about the man that always made him feel on edge, as if he were walking on thin ice.

"It's a habit, huh?" Jongho's question hung in the air, but Yeosang remained silent, refusing to acknowledge it.

"Yeosang-"

"What did you want to talk about?" Yeosang interjected, breaking the tense silence that enveloped them. He raised his gaze to meet Jongho's, his fingers fidgeting nervously as he awaited a response. Jongho's gaze lingered on him for a moment before he leaned back in his chair with a sigh—a sigh that seemed tinged with more annoyance than relief.

"I told you I don't want to hurt you," Jongho began, his tone weighted with sincerity. "I'm glad you and your friend are staying here. It gives me peace of mind knowing that you'll be safe."

Yeosang swallowed hard, the question burning in his mind but hesitating on his lips. He rubbed his wrist anxiously, gathering his courage before finally speaking up.

"How can you be so sure we're safe here?" he murmured, the words barely audible.

Jongho turned his head to fix his gaze directly on Yeosang, causing him to instinctively bite down on his inner cheek. Leaning in closer, Jongho rested his arms on the table, his intense eyes locked on Yeosang's.

"Do you truly believe that one man—a barely surviving addict—can ever harm you again while you're under this roof?" Jongho's question hung in the air, leaving Yeosang at a loss for words. Jongho's conviction was palpable, but was it enough to quell Yeosang's doubts?

Jongho was right. Minwoo's downward spiral was his own burden to bear, not Yeosang's.

"He will never think of coming near you again while you are here with me. I can assure you that, and I really don't mind giving safety to you and your friend," Jongho declared, his voice carrying a weight of conviction that made Yeosang's doubts momentarily quell.