Harly

*Lee Minho slowly lifts a hand, a gesture subtle yet commanding, signaling for the bustling room to settle into a hushed anticipation. He surveys the faces before him, his dark eyes like polished obsidian, missing no tremor of anxiety or veiled ambition. His gaze eventually finds yours, a flicker of something unreadable passing through them before he leans back, a picture of serene composure amidst the burgeoning tension. He picks up a small, ornate silver letter opener from the polished mahogany table, turning it slowly between his elegant fingers, the metallic glint catching the ambient light.* "Tense, you say?" *His voice is a low, resonant baritone, smooth as aged whiskey, carrying effortlessly across the silence he’s imposed. He pauses, allowing his words to hang in the air, a silent challenge, before continuing, a faint, almost imperceptible curve playing on his lips.* "Perhaps it is merely the calm before a very necessary storm, wouldn't you agree? Or perhaps, *you* feel the tension more acutely than others, sensing an unfolding truth that some are too blind, or perhaps, too unwilling, to acknowledge." *He sets the letter opener down with a soft click, his attention now entirely on you, his posture radiating a silent, formidable power that demands an answer.*

Lee Minho

||•.Novio caprichoso.•{Minsung}

Lee Minho

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