Silent Moments

The night enveloped Obsidian Mansion, the wind howling through the towering trees like whispers of impending chaos. Inside, the mansion was dimly lit, the heavy air thick with tension. In the vast meeting room, the SVT members gathered, their expressions unreadable as they took their seats. The long mahogany table gleamed under the chandelier's faint glow, its light refracting off the glasses of whiskey and untouched files scattered on the surface.

At the head of the table stood S.Coups, a commanding presence despite the calm demeanor etched across his face. He leaned slightly on the chair behind him, his dark eyes scanning the room. It was a routine they had perfected over the years—sit, listen, execute. But tonight's meeting carried an unspoken weight.

S.Coups had already ensured Jeonghan was asleep, brushing his hair until his breathing softened. Only then did he leave the safety of Jeonghan's room, closing the door quietly behind him before stepping into the calculated coldness of the meeting.

The wind outside rattled the windows as S.Coups began. His voice was steady, clipped, and devoid of any warmth. "The Dragons have been stirring. We've confirmed through reliable sources that they're planning to strike our east base in two days." He paused, allowing the information to sink in. The room remained silent, the faint hum of the air conditioning the only sound.

Jun was the first to respond, his voice sharp and measured. "They're smaller in number, but they've got skill. Enough to be a nuisance." His fingers tapped rhythmically on the table, his eyes narrowing as he considered the implications.

Hoshi, leaning back in his chair with a dangerous glint in his eyes, added, "They're overestimating themselves. That arrogance is their weakness."

"Which is why we'll strike first," S.Coups cut in, his tone decisive. "We eliminate them tomorrow, before they have the chance to move. We don't wait for threats to escalate."

The room grew colder, the air thick with unspoken agreements. It wasn't a question. It was a directive.

Wonwoo adjusted his glasses, breaking the silence. "We'll need precise coordination. Their leader, Shin, is known for adapting under pressure. If we want this clean, we'll need to remove him first. It'll cripple their command structure."

S.Coups nodded. "Then it's decided. Hoshi, Jun, and Vernon—take point on the ground. Dino, secure our comms and surveillance. Make sure we have eyes on every possible escape route."

"And Jeonghan?" Vernon asked hesitantly, his deep voice tinged with concern. He avoided looking directly at S.Coups.

The leader's expression didn't falter, though a flicker of something unspoken passed through his eyes. "Jeonghan's safety is priority. Daniel's leaving for Japan tomorrow night—won't have anyone with him. Wonwoo, I need you to come up with a transfer plan for Jeonghan."

Wonwoo tilted his head, his sharp gaze meeting S.Coups'. "Moving him now could be risky. If Viktor catches wind, the entire plan crumbles. We'd have to guarantee no loose ends during the transfer. Are you prepared for that?"

S.Coups' jaw tightened. "We don't have a choice. Viktor already about Jeonghan's presence here, if finds out about tomorrow's attack, we're exposed on all sides. Clean up the Dragons first, then handle the transfer. No delays."

A heavy pause settled over the room. Dino, seated near the end of the table, shifted uncomfortably. "Do you really think we can move him without Viktor noticing?" His voice was quieter than usual, almost uncertain.

"That's why you'll make sure there's no trail," S.Coups said coldly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "This isn't a negotiation. We don't leave vulnerabilities."

Jun leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table, his voice low and deliberate. "And if Jeonghan finds out why he's really here? Have you considered the consequences of that?"

S.Coups' gaze darkened, his fingers tightening around the back of the chair. "That's not your concern. I'll handle Jeonghan."

The room fell into silence once more, the members exchanging fleeting glances before nodding in agreement. The plan was clear, and the risks were understood.

"Tomorrow, we finish this," S.Coups declared, his voice firm and unyielding. "No mistakes. Dismissed."

The sound of chairs scraping against the floor echoed as the members stood, their footsteps fading into the mansion's dimly lit halls. Alone in the meeting room, S.Coups let out a slow breath, his gaze falling to the empty space at the far end of the table. The weight of the decisions he'd made bore down on him, but his expression remained a mask of icy resolve.

The wind howled outside, rattling the windows as though it, too, understood the storm brewing within.

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At Midnight 

The night crept deeper into the Obsidian Mansion, the wind howling like a restless spirit, rattling the tall, ornate windows with its icy grip. Inside, S.Coups' study remained a sanctuary of quiet order. The room was steeped in muted amber light, cast by a single vintage desk lamp that illuminated the dark mahogany furniture and the towering shelves lined with leather-bound books. A faint scent of aged paper mingled with the sharp tang of the whiskey in a glass resting near the edge of the desk.

S.Coups sat in his usual place, shoulders tense, eyes scanning the documents before him. Every corner of the room reflected his calculated personality—meticulous, powerful, and cold. Yet, for all its grandeur, the study bore an emptiness, a silence that felt heavier tonight. The crackling fireplace offered little solace, its warmth unable to reach the shadows stretching across the walls.

The soft creak of the door broke his focus. His gaze darted up sharply, a flicker of alarm giving way to muted surprise. Jeonghan stood hesitantly in the doorway, his figure framed by the dim light spilling from the hall behind him. He looked small, fragile even, dressed in a loose cardigan that fell around him like a shield against the night. S.Coups studied his face. pale, lips slightly parted, eyes reflecting an unease that mirrored the storm outside.

"You're awake," S.Coups said, his voice low, almost indifferent, though his eyes softened imperceptibly.

Jeonghan stepped inside, his bare feet silent against the thick rug. "I couldn't sleep," he murmured, the words almost drowned out by the wind rattling the glass. "The wind... it's too loud."

S.Coups didn't respond immediately. Instead, he stood and gestured toward the couch by the fireplace. "Lie down. You'll feel better here."

Without protest, Jeonghan complied, sinking into the plush cushions. The warmth of the fire brushed his skin, a stark contrast to the icy draft that seemed to haunt the corridors. He tucked his legs beneath him, pulling the blanket S.Coups handed him close to his chest. He watched as S.Coups returned to his desk, but instead of resuming his work, S.Coups moved behind him and crouched down slightly, his fingers brushing through Jeonghan's hair in a soothing, rhythmic motion.

Jeonghan let out a soft sigh, his body relaxing under the gentle touch. For a while, the room was filled only with the sound of the fire, the wind's distant howl, and the faint rustle of fabric as Jeonghan adjusted himself. His gaze lingered on S.Coups—the man who was both his captor and his protector. Tonight, S.Coups' face seemed less severe, the usual coldness tempered by something Jeonghan couldn't quite place.

"Why are you so gentle?" Jeonghan whispered, breaking the silence. His voice was quiet, hesitant, as if he were afraid of the answer.

S.Coups didn't reply immediately. His hand paused, then resumed its path through Jeonghan's hair. "Because you're not supposed to be here," he said finally, his voice low, almost pained. "You're not meant for this world."

A faint smile tugged at Jeonghan's lips, though his eyes shimmered with something bittersweet. "Maybe... but you're not as cold as you want to be, either."

S.Coups' hand stilled, his fingers curling slightly as he let out a soft exhale. "You trust too easily," he murmured, his tone sharp but not unkind. "That's dangerous."

Jeonghan chuckled softly, a sound that was more breath than laughter. "And yet, I do. I trust you."

The words hit S.Coups harder than he cared to admit. His jaw tightened, the usual mask of indifference cracking under the weight of Jeonghan's quiet confidence in him. He wasn't sure what unnerved him more. Jeonghan's unshakable trust or the way it made him feel.

"I shouldn't let you," S.Coups muttered, almost to himself. "But I can't seem to stop you."

Jeonghan shifted, pulling the blanket tighter around him. Without a word, he gestured for S.Coups to join him. When S.Coups hesitated, Jeonghan gave him a soft, insistent look. Reluctantly, S.Coups moved to the couch, sitting at the edge.

What he didn't expect was for Jeonghan to lay his head in his lap. The sudden closeness left S.Coups stunned, his body stiffening momentarily as Jeonghan settled against him. The warmth of Jeonghan's weight against his thighs, the soft press of his hair, sent an unfamiliar current through him.

"S.Coups," Jeonghan murmured, his voice already thick with sleep, "you'll protect me, won't you?"

S.Coups swallowed hard, his throat dry. His hand hovered over Jeonghan for a moment before resting lightly on his shoulder. "I will," he said, his voice barely audible.

As Jeonghan drifted off, his fingers curled into the fabric of S.Coups' sweater, a faint smile lingering on his lips. S.Coups stared down at him, the storm outside fading into the background. For the first time in years, he felt something stir in the cold void he called his heart. But even as warmth crept in, the unease remained.

The weight of Jeonghan's trust settled heavily on S.Coups. He looked down at the delicate figure now curled against him, his heart wrestling with a mix of emotions he couldn't name. Jeonghan's face, serene in the flickering firelight, stirred something unfamiliar in him—a warmth, a longing, and an unshakable fear. The thought of losing this fragile connection, of Jeonghan learning the truth, gnawed at the edges of his mind.

As the minutes passed, S.Coups found himself staring down at Jeonghan, his fingers continuing their gentle path through his hair. He spoke softly, almost as if to himself.

"You trust too easily," he murmured, his voice tinged with both wonder and regret. "And I... I don't deserve it."

But Jeonghan, lost to the comfort of S.Coups' lap and the soothing cadence of his hand, was already fast asleep. And S.Coups, for the first time in years, found himself both yearning for and terrified of what came next.

The weight of the unspoken truth pressed down on him, heavier than ever.

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