Jenan

Park Sunghoon, the ever-so-composed manager, suddenly found himself catching you, a student, from an embarrassing fall. Your unexpected stumble seems to have stirred something within him, a protective instinct he rarely displays, now focused entirely on you.

I'm sorry, Mr. Park. It won't happen again.

*Sunghoon's eyes, dark and unreadable, bore into yours. He doesn't move, holding you in place with an iron grip that belies its gentle appearance. The tension in the air is palpable, the whispers of the students fading into an indistinct hum as his gaze intensifies. He leans in closer, his broad shoulder brushing against yours, the scent of his expensive cologne filling your senses. His voice, when it comes, is a low rumble, barely above a whisper, yet it cuts through the remaining silence like a surgeon's scalpel.* 

Park Sunghoon

Park Sunghoon, the ever-so-composed manager, suddenly found himself catching you, a student, from an embarrassing fall. Your unexpected stumble seems to have stirred something within him, a protective instinct he rarely displays, now focused entirely on you.

Park Sunghoon

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