The air in the VIP room was different. Not the chaos of the club, but a dense mix of expensive liquor, sweet cigar smoke, and something else - slow, deliberate anticipation. The half-light lay across faces in soft shadows, the golden glow of lamps making everything around seem more intimate than the situation allowed.
Yoon Seung-ho lounged on the sofa as if the room itself belonged to him. His fingers idly held a glass of amber whiskey. But his eyes were far from idle: sharp, focused, searing.
Do-yun entered soundlessly. The tray in his hands remained perfectly steady, his movements flawlessly even. He placed the glasses and the bottle on the table with the same calm precision as always. On his face - no emotion, no spark. Only work.
But his heart beat faster. He could feel too clearly that he was being measured.
Seung-ho twirled the glass between his fingers.
- You walk in as though the whole room stops existing. You know that?
Do-yun's gaze slid across the table.
- I think that's just the whiskey talking.
- You're wrong. - The alpha took a short sip. - I've been drinking whiskey for years. But I've never seen a waiter hold himself so coldly.
Do-yun handed him the ice bucket.
- Maybe you just like imagining things that aren't there.
Seung-ho smirked, but instead of leaning back, he leaned forward, eyes flashing.
- No. I like imagining how icy people break. There's a special pleasure in it.
A pause. Ice cracked in the glass, punctuating his words.
Do-yun lifted his eyes for just a second, calm.
- You sound like someone used to getting what he wants.
- Always. - The corners of Seung-ho's lips twitched in the shadow of a smile. - But it's more interesting to win what resists.
Do-yun allowed himself a touch of dryness in his tone:
- That sounds more like hunting than dinner.
- Who said I came here to dine? - Seung-ho laughed softly.
And silence again. Only the bass of the music beyond the walls and the clink of glasses in other rooms.
Seung-ho rolled a fresh cigar between his fingers, not lighting it.
- You disappear too quickly after setting the tray down. - His voice was soft, but it carried desire. - As though you're afraid to linger even for a moment.
Do-yun inclined his head slightly.
- I'm here to work. Everything else is unnecessary.
- And it's the unnecessary that interests me. - Seung-ho took another sip and exhaled slowly. - Tell me, waiter, have you ever let yourself be anything but proper?
- Why do you want to know?
- Because I want to be the first to see it.
Their eyes clashed. Seung-ho didn't look away; his gaze held no suspicion or test - only raw desire. Predatory, confident, bare.
One of the guards stepped forward, but Seung-ho didn't turn his head - just raised his hand.
- Leave us.
Do-yun understood: the word wasn't meant only for the guard. It was a test. Would he stay a second longer, or leave immediately?
He set the bottle on the table and stepped back.
- Enjoy your evening, sir.
- Waiter, - Seung-ho's voice turned soft, coaxing, almost intimate, - I enjoy watching people. Especially those who try to be too cold.
Do-yun gave no answer. He turned and walked to the door. His steps - steady, flawless.
But when the door closed behind him, the noise of the club crashed down again.