Fu Yan, who had been silent for what felt like hours, finally shifted in his seat, his hands gripping the armrests as his gaze flicked between Hirvan and Elian. His grey eyes were calm, though a storm brewed behind them, filled with thoughts unspoken. Hirvan felt it, a pull, a pressure building as Fu Yan sat there, quietly observing, quietly waiting for his turn.
Hirvan's breath hitched for a moment as he turned toward Fu Yan. There was an intensity to Fu Yan's quiet patience that unsettled him more than Elian's obvious outburst. Fu Yan's silence had always been more dangerous.
"Can I talk to you in private?" Hirvan asked softly, his voice barely louder than a whisper. Yet, in that small request, there was a plea, a vulnerability he rarely exposed.