EXCESSIVE | ᴋᴏᴏᴋᴠ

21

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The meeting room buzzed with the sound of voices, pens scribbling across papers, and the click of keyboards as various department heads presented their reports. It was an important quarterly meeting—one that would determine the company's strategies moving forward. But Kim Taehyung, seated at the head of the table, didn’t seem to care.

His mind wasn’t in the room, and his eyes weren’t on the large screen in front of him where charts and graphs were displayed. Instead, his gaze remained fixed on his wrist, where his gloves didn’t fully cover the skin. The bare flesh there caught his attention, drawing him deeper into thoughts he wasn’t ready to confront.

A faint smile—so subtle it would go unnoticed by most—ghosted his lips. The only sign of life in his otherwise impassive face. But his senior executives were no fools; they knew their CEO well enough to notice when his attention had drifted far away from the meeting at hand.

Still, none of them dared to interrupt. After all, Taehyung owned the company. His word was law, and if he wasn’t paying attention, they had no right to call him out. Instead, they all shared brief glances with each other and hurried through their presentations, hoping to wrap the meeting up quickly.

The moment the meeting was adjourned, the executives left the room in hurried silence, relieved to be out from under Taehyung’s gaze.

Taehyung, though, didn’t even notice them leave. His fingers ran along the edge of his gloves, pulling them tighter as he stood up and left the meeting room, heading straight for his private office.

Once inside, he closed the door behind him and leaned against it for a moment. His heart wasn’t racing, but his mind was. He pushed himself off the door and headed to his desk, pressing the intercom button.

"Send Minho in," he said in a low voice.

A few moments later Minho walked into the room, carrying a tablet with the day’s agenda. He paused in front of Taehyung’s desk, waiting for instructions.

Taehyung didn't look up right away. He was still distracted, his gaze lingering on the place where Jungkook had touched him—his bare wrist. He hadn’t worn a watch or a bracelet since the incident in the elevator, preferring the open air against his skin as if expecting something… more.

"Mr. Kim?" Minho  prompted softly, aware that Taehyung wasn’t fully present.

Taehyung blinked, finally dragging his eyes away from his wrist. "The elevator issue. What happened with that?"

Minho straightened his posture, his voice professional but slightly hesitant. "The maintenance team has been fired, as you instructed. The new team has been briefed and has already fixed the issue. The elevator should be running smoothly now."

"Good," Taehyung muttered, though his tone was distracted. "Did you make sure to let them know they were being fired because they failed to do their job to my standards?"

"Of course, sir." Mr. Lee nodded. "I made sure they understood."

"Good," Taehyung repeated, his fingers drumming against the desk. "That will be all."

Mr. Lee  bowed slightly and left the room, closing the door behind him. The moment he was gone, Taehyung’s attention returned to his wrist.

'How?' The question buzzed in his mind louder than any of the conversations he had half-heard in the meeting. 'How did I not panic?'

Taehyung had experienced panic attacks for as long as he could remember. Anytime someone touched him, even by accident, his body reacted instantly—his heart would race, his breathing would become erratic, and he would feel trapped in his own skin. It had been that way for years.