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As you storm into the dim meeting room, you toss the papers haphazardly on the table before flopping down in one of the many chairs surrounding the large expansive table, the door slamming shut behind you and rattling the one-way glass.

Running your hands through your hair, you try to swallow the amount of shame you've just experienced in those moments, and erase the lingering image of Taehyung's eyes staring back at yours. Eyes which, in your delirium, you were unable to read, unable to recognize.

Groaning, you bury your head deeper into the cocoon of your arms and stomp your feet as though you were a child, your hands gripping at the tendrils of hair you've wrapped around your fingers.

"Oh."

At the sound, your eyes widen in surprise and you jump to your feet, turning to the newcomer, a new wave of embarrassment and anxiety washing over you. As he stares at you with narrowed eyes, adjusting his glasses on his face before regarding the mess of papers on the table, you have a consistent need to shrivel up and die.

"Am I interrupting?"

Swallowing hard, you shake your head violently before hurriedly reaching to tidy the stack of papers on the table, trying your best to stay out of his way as he walks around the table to his seat.

"N-no sir, I was just leaving." You murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, for fear that would hear the shakiness. Even though it's painfully clear by the way he sighs in clear annoyance that he's already noticed. Biting your bottom lip, you take a deep breath before pulling away from the papers and the table and bowing in reverence toward him. Muttering a small apology, you almost make it to the door in time to escape, but he calls you back.

"Lin Yen."

At the sound of your name, you freeze, your eyes widening in shock, and your hand hovering above the handle to the door. For a moment, you consider turning the knob and leaving, perhaps pretending that he's not who you think he is, but it's a fleeting thought. Swallowing hard, you turn to him, hoping there'll be some sort of sign in his expression that could tell you why he knows your name, and where you might have seen him before if you know him at all.

He scoffs at the expression you wear on your face, and you can't help but feel a bit slighted in a way. Almost as though he were belittling you.

"I thought it was you." Once more, you wonder how he knows you, but before you can ask, he gestures towards one of the many seats around the table. "Please, sit."

After a moment, you follow suit, watching closely as he begins to prepare the room for the meeting.

"Tell me, do you know who I am?"

When he regards you with those calculating eyes, you can't help but feel as though he expects you to know. As though if you do not, you were disrespecting him and everything he could have ever stood for. Nervously wringing your hands in your lap, you carefully shake your head.

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