Yoongi stands up and places his hands on the table. "You talk a tough fucking game, Hyuntae," he scoffs. "For a girl."
Kimoon puts his hand down on Yoongi's shoulder and pushes him into his seat. "You know she could kill you by the time you made it around the table," he says, his eyes not bothering to focus on the male next to him. "Just give a rest and focus on the main issue at hand."
Kimoon looks over to me with a smile before nodding a little to encourage me to continue speaking.
I slowly run my fingers through my hair before I plop my head down on the table and sigh loudly, my nose smushed against the wooden surface, hair sprawled out sporadically. The room stays silent around me, I can tell they're all staring at me, I can feel it.
I flip my head up as fast as I can and look up at everyone, their gazes averting at the very sight of my face.
"Could you just all, I don't know, go do literally anything other than stare at me and wait for instruction?" I hiss as I aggressively run my hands over my face, pulling the skin taught. "Just go finish the pizza or some shit. Just... just get out of my face."
All of the chairs in the room push back and slide across the floor, creating an annoying screeching sound that causes me to groan and cover my ears. No one slides their chairs back, probably because of my reaction, and they leave the room.
After a few long moments, I lift my head and notice Kimoon still sitting in his spot a few chairs away from me. I look at him and rest my head on my hand.
"I can tell Yoongi gets on your nerves," Kimoon speaks, a slight smile tugging on the corner of his lips. "I can keep him in line if you need me to."
I shrug and close my eyes. "We need to find this guy, get this all over with so I can get away from all of you for a few days and work in my quiet little bakery," I open my eyes once I realize what I just said. "Not you, though, you're the one keeping me sane."
Kimoon smiles. "I wasn't worried," he looks down and plays with his fingers. "Do you think that maybe after we close this case I can take you out?"
I smile, but he doesn't look at me.
"To celebrate, of course," he stutters. "I didn't want you to think that-"
"I wasn't worried."
He chuckles, a slight red tint forming on his cheeks.
The door to the conference room opens and Daehyun comes storming into the room, a single bead of sweat hanging from his forehead, a sucker sticking out of his mouth. I notice his laptop in his hand, a pad of paper in the other, both making me question how he opened the door.
"I found him," he pants as he places his things down on the table and opens his laptop. "The man from your shop."
I nod and lean over to look at the screen of his laptop. Kimoon stands up and walks around the table to stand behind me, his hand resting on my shoulder as he looks over the top of my head. His hand stays there for only a few moments before he pulls it away, unsure if he's allowed to touch me like that, if at all.
"His name is Austin Park, he's Korean-American, hence a name like Austin," he says as he types something into his laptop. "Austin may look like any other mediocre looking man around here, but he has one distinct feature that sets him apart from the others."
On the screen, Daehyun pulls up two photos of the male, one full body shot and one face shot. He leaves the photos up for a few seconds before speaking again.
"Notice anything?" He asks.
I shake my head, and I assume Kimoon does the same.
"His left leg," he zooms in on the photo. "It's fake."