20|| Undercurrents

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Mr Osoro sat in frigid silence, dark eyes like the sky on a stormy day. He started unmovingly at the man sitting before him leisurely, long legs crossed one over the other, head thrown back, reclining inside the single person sofa, his hands propped up on both sides of the chair. The man, not too smaller in stature hummed quietly to himself, a smile firmly etched onto his face.

Mr Osoro, who had both his legs firmly planted onto the floor, one arm propped up on the armchair, watched the man with a dim look.

His eyes then slid towards the only other person in the room, a slim blonde male who moved around without a care in the world, as if the rising tension was nothing to him. Yuri's steps hardly faltered, he must've been used to it by now, being Mr Osoro personal doctor and all.

Mr Osoro only wore his signature white shirt with only one of his sleeves rolled up to his elbow, his jacket thrown over another unoccupied chair. The sound of straps being undone echoed inside the interior of the room every few seconds until the sound gradually stopped.

Yuri moved quickly, removing his arm brace that had served it's full purpose, revealing only slightly less tanned skinned underneath. The color was slightly lighter yet hardly noticeable if one didn't pay close attention to it.

Having that accursed thing removed, Mr Osoro finally felt as if he could breathe. He flexed his fingers once, twice, confirming that the dull lingering pain he usually ignored was totally gone before nodding to Yuri.

Mr Osoro then went back to the situation at hand. His gaze slid back to the lackadaisical intruder, who's sudden appearance came as a surprise.

"What are you doing here..." Mr Osoro was the first to speak, his voice flat as ever, "Marcelo?"

Hearing himself being addressed, the man finally moved, lifting his head with the usual easygoing smile etched into his features. His head of hair secured back with a tie, exposing his entire face.

Marcelo, like Mr Osoro had some background to himself. Mr Osoro couldn't remember the specifics because he hardly cared when it came to that family, but it should've been something. It was the man's lazy manner that irked Mr Osoro greatly.

Marcelo did indeed come from a family that was powerful, not in the sense of being able to compete with the Osoro name but powerful in a sense that they had high standings in the current world of business among their rank. Mr Osoro would only bother himself to remember this much, only this much.

While Mr Osoro wouldn't bother himself to remember the specifics, Marcelo's standing in the business world was not the reason why Marcelo could sit infront of him so casually. The fact was that their parents went a bit too far back.

It wasn't only that, both families were close with few distant relatives down the line even marrying inbetween. Not enough to unite the families but still enough. It e a stretch to say the children of the immediate families grew up knowing each other. Through schooling and later university. It had been a long time since Mr Osoro frequented the group and...if he was remembering correctly... Marcelo and himself were once colleagues in university when he had been a freespirted yet outstanding youth. That was all in the past though.

Mr Osoro felt little shame at only recalling the man's name alone with clarity. It had been so long since he participated in the group's weekly drinking party, years to be exact. There were very few people on earth who he paid special attention to. If Jiho hadn't been running an errand, Mr Osoro could've gotten a full rundown.

Marcelo, who was dressed in the usual formal attire, planted a look of hurt on face as his light brown eyes met Mr Osoro's dark ones. He straighted himself in the chair, fixing his collar before answering, "Is it illegal for friends to pay each other a visit?"

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