Han's POV
Han smoothed out his pastel-colored blazer and checked his reflection in the elevator mirror one last time. His slightly tousled hair and the hint of mischief in his eyes were all part of his charm. As the elevator doors slid open, he stepped out with a bounce in his step, ready to meet Lee Minho.
He walked into the grand lobby of the art gallery, where Minho was hosting a private exhibition. The room was filled with elite patrons, all here to see Minho's latest acquisitions. Han made his way through the crowd, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on Minho, who was in deep conversation with a group of art enthusiasts.
Han approached with a confident smile. "Excuse me, Mr. Lee?"
Minho turned, his gaze sharp as it fell on Han. There was a flicker of interest in his eyes, but he maintained his composed demeanor. "Yes? And you are?"
"Han Jisung," Han introduced himself, extending his hand. "I've heard a lot about your exquisite taste in art. I was hoping to get your perspective on a piece I'm considering."
Minho's expression softened slightly. "Is that so? Well, let's see if I can be of any help."
As they walked through the gallery, Han kept the conversation light and engaging, peppering it with his characteristic wit and charm. He made sure to compliment Minho's collection genuinely, showing a real appreciation for the art, which seemed to pique Minho's interest further.
They stopped in front of a vibrant painting, and Han tilted his head thoughtfully. "This one... it's fascinating. The colors, the composition. It speaks of passion and restraint all at once."
Minho nodded, his eyes on the painting but his thoughts seemingly elsewhere. "It's a piece that resonates deeply with many. The artist captures the conflict between desire and duty."
Han glanced at Minho, noting the introspective look in his eyes. "A conflict many of us can relate to, I'm sure."
Minho's gaze shifted to Han, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. "Indeed. You seem to have a keen eye for art, Mr. Han."
"Please, call me Han," he replied with a soft smile. "And thank you. I believe art is a window to the soul."
Minho seemed to consider this, then nodded. "Perhaps we should discuss this further over coffee. I'd like to hear more of your thoughts."
Han's heart raced with a mix of excitement and nerves. "I'd love that, Mr. Lee."
As they moved towards the gallery's cafe, Han felt a sense of accomplishment. This was more than just a meeting – it was the beginning of something deeper. He had six months to make Minho fall for him, but already, he sensed that the game was changing.
