The Shadows (Underworld 4) JH

46: What Just Happened?

Seungcheol sat in his office, the dim light from his desk lamp casting long shadows across the room. The rain outside tapped lightly against the window, creating a soothing background noise as he sipped his coffee. The day had been long, filled with meetings and the usual chaos that came with running the Midnight gang, but now he had a moment to himself.

As he scrolled through his tablet, catching up on the latest news and reports, an article caught his eye. It was a feature on Minghao's latest art exhibition in China, titled "The Muse of Love." Seungcheol's curiosity piqued, and he tapped on the link, the page loading with vibrant images of the gallery, the paintings, and the people who attended.

His gaze stopped abruptly on one photo—a candid shot of Junhui and Minghao standing side by side at the exhibition. The image captured a moment between them that felt almost too intimate for public view. They were smiling at each other, Junhui's eyes soft with adoration as Minghao looked up at him with a fondness that was unmistakable. It was as if the entire world had fallen away, leaving only the two of them in their own little universe.

Seungcheol's grip on the tablet tightened, his jaw clenching slightly. He knew Junhui well, had known him for years, and had seen him in many different situations. But this... this was different. There was a level of devotion in Junhui's expression that Seungcheol had rarely seen. It was love—pure, unguarded, and all-consuming.

A part of Seungcheol couldn't help but feel a pang of unease. Junhui had always been fiercely loyal to the Midnight gang, had always put their missions and objectives above all else. But now, seeing him like this, Seungcheol wondered if that loyalty was being compromised. Minghao was still tied to Yulan, their enemy, and no matter how much Junhui loved him, that fact couldn't be ignored.

But another part of Seungcheol—a softer, more human part—felt something else entirely. Seeing the way Junhui looked at Minghao reminded him of the way he often looked at Jeonghan. That depth of feeling, that protectiveness, that desire to keep the person you love safe at all costs—it was something Seungcheol understood all too well.

He sighed, leaning back in his chair as he continued to stare at the photo. He couldn't deny that Junhui seemed genuinely happy, and that happiness was something Seungcheol wanted for his friend. But the question was, at what cost? How far was Junhui willing to go for Minghao, and what would that mean for the Midnight gang?

As the rain continued to fall outside, Seungcheol knew he had to tread carefully. He couldn't let emotions cloud his judgment, especially not when it came to the safety and future of the gang. But seeing Junhui and Minghao together, so in love, made it hard to stay objective.

For now, Seungcheol set the tablet aside, his mind racing with thoughts and plans. He knew he had to talk to Junhui, to understand where his head was at and what his intentions were. But he also knew that, deep down, he didn't want to come between Junhui and the happiness he had found with Minghao.

With a heavy heart, Seungcheol leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk as he stared out into the rain-soaked night. He could only hope that whatever came next, they would be able to navigate it together, as a family, without losing sight of what truly mattered.

The next morning, the sun barely peeked through the curtains when Jeonghan stormed into the kitchen, his usually serene demeanor crackling with barely contained fury. Seungcheol was seated at the table, nursing a cup of coffee, his mind still replaying the events of the previous evening. He glanced up just as Jeonghan slammed a newspaper onto the table in front of him, the headline blaring about Minghao's gallery success and a picture capturing the intimate moment between Minghao and Junhui, their smiles full of love and pride.

"Explain this, Seungcheol," Jeonghan demanded, his voice a mix of controlled anger and sharp-edged sarcasm. His posture was perfect, every movement deliberate, exuding a grace that only Jeonghan could manage even in the midst of a brewing storm.