Lines We Cross ||Front Man x Reader||

I couldn't even look him in the eyes.

Jun-ho stood right in front of me, but I couldn't meet his gaze. I couldn't do it. The guilt was rotting me from the inside out, clawing at my ribs like it wanted out. My wrists burned from the ropes, but it wasn't the restraints that had me gasping for breath—it was the fucking silence.

I could've argued with In-ho. Could've kept my mouth shut, thrown one of his games back at him, left Jun-ho to guess the truth like In-ho loved making people do. In-ho wouldn't have pushed further. He enjoyed the confusion. He thrived on the mystery, on people dangling just beneath the answer.

But Jun-ho... Jun-ho didn't deserve that.

And the worst part was. I knew the moment I told him, really told him, the weight would finally fucking lift. I could breathe again. And that would help me figure out what the hell I was supposed to do next. Because right now? I had never in my life felt this lost.

I was yanked out of my head when he said it. Soft. Scared.

"Y/N?"

It snapped something in me.

"I love your brother."

I said it fast. Loud. Sharper than I expected, like it had been building up and clawing its way out of my chest for days, weeks.

Jun-ho blinked.

Speechless.

I pushed forward, my voice trembling now, cracking apart at the seams. "He loves me too. Apparently. Ironic right?" I added sarcastically.

Even in moments like these, I will always be sarastic... Helps me cope. Helps lighten the mood too.

The guilt hit hard, flooding my chest. I swallowed around the lump in my throat.

"I'm sorry, Jun-ho..."

Tears stung my eyes and spilled over. But the moment the words left my mouth, it felt like I'd exhaled a demon. The weight—gone. Like a chokehold had finally loosened around my neck. I let out a shaky, uneven sigh, breathing air like it was the first time in years.

Jun-ho didn't say anything.

And then—crack.

He broke out of the guards' grip like his life depended on it, rage surging through his entire body, and punched In-ho square in the fucking jaw.

I flinched in my seat, wide-eyed.

In-ho's head snapped sideways from the hit, stumbling a bit from the force. Fucking deserved.

"THIS is how you treat the girl you 'love'?!" Jun-ho shouted, being pulled back again by two guards this time. "Look at her! LOOK at what you're doing to her! You're sick, In-ho! What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

His voice broke at the end, chest heaving, eyes burning with betrayal and heartbreak. "The old you... the old In-ho would never do something like this. Never."

He was trembling. "This isn't just about your games or rules. You're fucking torturing her. Psychological... oh AND emotional fucking torture. Can't you see that?!"

In-ho rubbed his jaw, blood at the corner of his lip. He let out a humorless chuckle, like Jun-ho's words were amusing in some twisted way.

He looked at his younger brother like he pitied him.

"Jun-ho..." he started.

Then he stepped forward again, voice dropping lower—dead serious now. "She's well and alive because of me."