Lines We Cross ||Front Man x Reader||

The mask came off, and my brain short-circuited. I stood there, staring, unable to process what I was looking at.

Holy. Shit.

"What. The. Fuck." The words came out barely above a whisper, but my disbelief filled the entire room. I couldn't stop staring. Young-il? No... no fucking way. This had to be some kind of sick joke.

I took a step back, my breathing uneven as the realization crashed into me. My confusion didn't last long, though, because it was quickly swallowed by rage. Pure, unfiltered fucking rage.

"You fucking liar," I snarled, my voice shaking with anger. "How could you? How could you do this to the people who genuinely cared about you? You lied to all of us, you son of a bitch! You—" My voice broke, but I didn't stop. I couldn't. "You killed Jung-bae in front of Gi-hun! They were best friends! You didn't even flinch! And worst of all..." My voice dropped, venom dripping from every word. "You lied to me. To all of us. You betrayed me. You betrayed everyone."

My chest heaved as I stared at him, my hands shaking at my sides. I pointed a trembling finger at him. "Young-il, huh? That's not even your real name, is it? Is it?! I fucking knew it. I had a gut feeling something was off, but I ignored it. I ignored it because I trusted you, you piece of shit!"

He just stood there, calm as ever, letting me unload everything. That infuriatingly stoic expression on his face made me want to scream. He didn't even try to defend himself, and that somehow made it worse.

"How could you?" I spat, my voice breaking again. A lump was forming in my throat, and I could feel my eyes starting to sting. I clenched my jaw, trying to push it all down, but it wasn't working.

I shut my mouth, biting back the wave of emotion threatening to spill out. My chest felt tight, and my vision blurred as tears welled up in my eyes. Fuck, don't cry. Don't you fucking dare cry in front of him.

He finally spoke, his voice quiet but steady. "I'm sorry, Y/N."

"Sorry?" I repeated, my voice dripping with disbelief. "Sorry? That's what you have to say? You're fucking sorry?" I scoffed bitterly, shaking my head. "That's rich. That's so fucking rich."

Before I could continue, he cut me off. His voice was still calm, but there was something in it, something almost... desperate. "I'm doing this because I want you alive, Y/N. I want you in my life. You are someone I truly value. I see... a better version of myself in you."

I laughed, loud and bitter, the sound echoing off the walls. "Oh, cut the bullshit!" I snapped, stepping closer to him. "I am nothing like you, and don't you ever fucking say that again. You're a killer. A liar. A fucking monster."

The room fell into an unbearable silence. The kind of silence that made your ears ring and your skin crawl. I glared at him, my chest still heaving, and he just stood there, staring back at me like he was waiting for me to say something else.

And then, he spoke again. "In-ho," he said quietly.

"What?" I asked, my voice sharp.

"My name," he said, meeting my gaze. "It's In-ho. Not Young-il."

"In-ho," I repeated, the name unfamiliar and yet somehow fitting.

We locked eyes, and for a moment, I felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. I hated him. I hated him. But somewhere deep down, buried under all the anger and betrayal, there was something else. Something I didn't want to name.

I clenched my fists at my sides, my nails digging into my palms as I fought the storm of emotions threatening to overtake me. And then, before I could stop myself, I took a step forward and slapped him. Hard.

The sound echoed in the room as his head snapped to the side. He didn't move, didn't flinch, didn't even raise a hand to stop me. He just stood there, taking it, like he thought he deserved it. Maybe he did.

My breath hitched, and before I knew it, I was hitting his chest with both fists, over and over, letting all the anger and frustration pour out of me. "I hate you," I choked out, my voice cracking. 

He didn't stop me. He just let me hit him, over and over, until my arms felt like lead and I couldn't lift them anymore. And then, finally, he grabbed my wrists, holding them gently but firmly, stopping me in my tracks.

I broke down, my body trembling as the tears I'd been holding back finally spilled over. I hated myself for it. I hated that he was the one standing there, holding me up when I wanted to crumble. I hated that his arms felt... safe. Comforting.

I hated him.

But I couldn't stop crying.

And he just stood there, holding me, saying nothing, letting me fall apart in his arms.

In-ho's heart ached as he watched her crumble. This was his fault. All of it. She didn't deserve this. She had fought so hard, survived so much, and he had betrayed her trust in the worst possible way.

When she collapsed against him, her fists no longer pounding but resting against his chest, he wrapped his arms around her. It was instinctive, protective, and he hated himself for it. She didn't push him away, and that almost made it worse.

He held her as she cried, his grip steady but gentle. The weight of her pain pressed down on him, and for the first time in a long time, he felt human. Flawed, broken, and deeply ashamed, but human.

He didn't say anything. What could he say? There were no words that could fix this, no apology that could undo what he had done. So he stayed silent, letting her cry, letting her grieve the betrayal.

A/N~ Short little angst chapter </3