Heart mumbled under his breath his eyes glancing up at the mirror then back down while he washed his hands, mumbling interview answers one last time. He tugged at the pants and jacket again, the fabric stubborn against his frame, made for curves he didn’t have. It pinched where it shouldn’t, glaring at him in the reflection.

A door slammed the whole bathroom had reverberated with the sound of the stall door hitting against its latch. Heart flinched, jerking his eyes up.

He froze.

A man stood in the doorway of the stall, tall and impossible to ignore. Midnight-black suit, navy blue shirt tailored close to his body, every line crisp. The tie, pocket square, even the stitching along the lapels was a beautiful blood red, artfully tailored with sharp details Heart had only ever seen on storefront mannequins. It was wealth stitched into fabric, and the contrast between his own ill-fitting borrowed suit and this stranger’s bespoke elegance made Heart’s stomach twist.

Not the same league. Not even the same world.

The man leaned lazily against the stall door he had just pushed open, one arm braced above his head, the other resting casually against the frame. He should have looked ridiculous posing like that, but somehow it only sharpened him. Confident. Predatory.

Like a cat stretching its claws just because it could.

Heart’s gaze betrayed him, drinking in the man’s face in the mirror. Strong lines, a symmetrical jaw, dark hair parted in loose strands that fell across his forehead like they had been placed there on purpose. Smooth skin, striking features.

Heart glanced back down at his hands that braced the marble of the sink, then back up at the man.

The guy smirked. It wasn’t a pleasant smirk.

It was fucking earth shattering.

His dark hair was swept back in pieces, giving his hair the illusion of movement even when it was still. Heart watched him noticing the cutest little birthmark right above his left eyelid crease. With a matching one right beneath the left brow bone.

When those dark brown eyes opened back up and met his, Heart’s breath caught.

The stranger’s smile spread slowly, deliberate, like he already knew the effect he had.

He glanced down, ears ringing with the effort of not looking at him again.

But he couldn’t help it. His eyes flicked back up from under his lashes, and the man was waiting.

Staring with an intensity that pinned Heart in place. The heat rushed up his chest, his neck, his face, until even the too-tight suit felt lose, compared to how tight his chest felt from the pressure..

The click of polished shoes against the tiles drew closer. The man came to stand beside him, washing his hands without a word. His reflection lingered in Heart’s vision.

Heart dabbed at his mouth with a damp paper towel, trying to idle the time away, unsure what to do. Any movement would mean brushing past the stranger, and his legs refused to budge. His gut was a knot, spinning tighter every second, the kind of nerves that made his skin prickle and his chest ache.

The air around this man pressed down like gravity. A presence that could silence boardrooms, bend people before he even spoke. Heart pitied whoever had to face him across a desk. He would break them before they began.

He risked a glance at the mirror and nearly choked when he caught the man smirking. A velvety grin, cold and deliberate, as if he knew exactly how shaken Heart was.

Why? We’ve never even met. Why does it feel like he’s already undoing me?

The man slowly raked his gaze over every inch of Heart’s body and that thrumming undoing feeling got stronger inside his chest. Both simultaneously unraveling and causing his nerves to knot up.

Heart slammed the paper into the sink, glare sharp though his hands trembled. “Is something funny to you? Am I amusing?”

The man turned fully then, that smirk still carved on his mouth. “I don’t like time wasters. My time is extremely precious.”

“Time wasters?” Heart repeated, confused and small.

“You never stopped talking. When was I supposed to tell you? You just kept rambling on, and I thought Really, he has nothing better to do? I’m surprised you didn’t check the stalls.”

His gaze dragged down Heart’s body, deliberate and slow. That strange thrumming sensation slammed through Heart’s chest again, hot and terrifying. His stomach turned over as parts of him stirred that had never stirred before, a dizzy ache low and insistent, a pull he couldn’t name.

This isn’t right. What is happening to me?

“ I…I would have stopped,” Heart muttered, shame crushing him. That was so freaking careless. Why didn’t I check the damn stalls?

His fingers brushed the hem of Min’s suit jacket, shame spiking higher at the obvious feminine cut. The man’s eyes flicked there, sharp and knowing, before sliding back up with that same unbearable intensity.

Heart’s breath hitched. He bit his lower lip, chest tight, body alive in ways it had never been before. His heart hammered so hard he thought it might crack open.

What the hell is wrong with today? What is going on? Why does this feel like it’s more than nerves, why did I do something so out of character. Any other time and I would have checked the stalls. You’re just tired. Yeah, that’s it.

“Would you… Have stopped for me?” The man took a step closer to Heart and shoved his hands in his suit pockets smoothly. Smiling wickedly, he leaned in and the hand that was in his pocket a moment ago suddenly slipped out of it and reached down towards Heart’s crotch.

Heart’s breathing slowed and his face flushed as the man’s hands touched the front of his trousers. Heart gulped and closed his eyes. His brain focusing in on the pounding that was so fast he could feel it everywhere in his body. He choked back a sound as he felt the man’s warm breath tickle his ear as he leaned in close.

“The next time you want to wear a woman’s suit to an interview, you might want to make sure it fits you in all areas.” His voice came out with a slight lilt of amusement churning through its deep baritone.

The soft, husky hum slithered all over Heart’s body, causing him to shudder.

With that one sentence, this man had stripped him of his confidence and made him feel exposed. The moment the shiver ended, his body began aching for more.

He knew he should feel repulsed, annoyed, disgusted, maybe creeped out, not because he was a man. But because he was invading his personal space without permission, and yet, he didn’t. The feeling of him leaning into him, how the smell of pine-scented shampoo permeated the surrounding air. That way his voice had surged down his body like a brazen fire.

Not at all. His brain was filled with questions.

The wrong sort of questions.

What does he want? What is he going to do to me? Gosh, you are so familiar! Why is he talking like he knows me?… And why is he so close?