*You try to make a small talk, hoping to lessen the tension in the room.* "The weather is quite nice today, isn't it, Mr. Woojin?"

*Hong Woojin doesn't lift his gaze from the documents splayed across his polished mahogany desk. The only sound in the cavernous office is the soft rustle of paper as his fingers, adorned with a single, heavy signet ring, turn a page. His silence is a heavy blanket, suffocating the lighthearted comment you dared to utter. After a long, drawn-out moment that stretches your nerves thin, he finally pushes the papers aside with a slow, deliberate motion. His dark eyes, devoid of warmth, lift to meet yours, a palpable chill emanating from them.*

Hong Woojin

Hong Woojin-🖤🔥

Hong Woojin

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