Lines Blur

Episode 3: Lines Blur

Taehyung’s grip on the gun tightened, his eyes locked on Jungkook’s as the mafia boss stepped closer, unafraid of the weapon aimed directly at him. In any other situation, Taehyung wouldn’t have hesitated. His entire career was built on making quick, decisive kills—calm, emotionless, detached. But this time, the room felt different. The air between them thickened with an undercurrent of tension that Taehyung couldn’t quite place.

Jungkook stopped just a few feet away, his gaze never wavering from Taehyung’s. His presence was overpowering, radiating confidence that felt more like a challenge than a threat. “You’re hesitating,” Jungkook said, his voice low and smooth, like he was amused by the entire situation. “That’s not like you, is it?”

Taehyung’s heart hammered in his chest, but outwardly, he remained stone-faced. “You think this is a game?” His voice was cold, but something in the way Jungkook looked at him made it hard to hold that icy facade.

Jungkook tilted his head slightly, his eyes scanning Taehyung’s face with that same infuriating smirk still curling his lips. “I’m starting to think it is. And I like games.”

Taehyung wanted to pull the trigger, to silence the arrogant mafia boss with one clean shot. But his finger wouldn’t move. Jungkook wasn’t like any other target he’d encountered. It wasn’t just the way he handled power, or how he effortlessly commanded fear and respect. There was something about him that was pulling Taehyung in, something he hadn’t felt before—a mix of curiosity and danger.

“Why are you still talking?” Taehyung growled, taking a step forward, closing the gap between them.

“Because you’re not going to shoot me,” Jungkook replied easily. He was standing so close now that Taehyung could see the faint outline of a tattoo peeking out from under the collar of his crisp white shirt. The scent of his expensive cologne filled the space between them, rich and intoxicating. “If you were, you would have done it already.”

Taehyung’s jaw clenched. He hated that Jungkook was right. He should have ended this the second he walked through the door. But something about the way Jungkook moved, the way he spoke, kept him frozen. He couldn’t read him, and that unsettled him more than he cared to admit.

“You don’t know anything about me,” Taehyung finally said, his voice low and dangerous. He could feel the tension building in the room, thick and suffocating. His mind screamed at him to finish the job, but his body wouldn’t obey.

Jungkook took another step closer, his face now inches from Taehyung’s. “Oh, I know more than you think, Taehyung.”

Hearing his name roll off Jungkook’s tongue sent a chill down Taehyung’s spine. The way he said it—so familiar, so certain—like they weren’t enemies, but something else entirely. Taehyung’s pulse quickened, his focus slipping as Jungkook’s intense gaze held him captive.

“What do you want?” Taehyung finally asked, his voice quieter than he intended. He needed to understand why Jungkook was playing this game. What did he have to gain from taunting a killer?

Jungkook’s smirk softened, but the dangerous edge in his eyes remained. “Isn’t it obvious? I want you.”

Taehyung blinked, the words hitting him like a punch to the gut. He couldn’t have heard that right. This was a trap—Jungkook was toying with him, playing some sick mind game. But the look in Jungkook’s eyes told him otherwise. It wasn’t a joke. The mafia boss was serious.

Taehyung’s instincts told him to run, to end this and disappear into the shadows like he always had. But something held him in place. Something in the way Jungkook was watching him, like he saw right through the mask Taehyung had spent years perfecting.

Before Taehyung could respond, Jungkook reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against Taehyung’s wrist—the same wrist that was holding the gun. It was a simple, almost casual gesture, but it sent a jolt of electricity through Taehyung’s body. His breath caught in his throat as Jungkook’s touch lingered, his eyes never leaving Taehyung’s face.

“You’re not just an assassin,” Jungkook said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I can see it in your eyes. You’re looking for something more.”

Taehyung’s heart pounded in his chest, his mind racing to make sense of what was happening. How could this man, this target, unravel him so easily? He had spent years perfecting his control, building walls so high that no one could ever see the real him. And yet, in just a few minutes, Jungkook was tearing them down.

“Shut up,” Taehyung muttered, stepping back, pulling his wrist from Jungkook’s touch. He needed to regain control, to stop this spiral before it was too late. “You don’t know anything about me.”

Jungkook didn’t move, but the smirk returned. “I know enough.”

The tension between them was suffocating now, the air heavy with something Taehyung couldn’t identify. He needed to leave, to put distance between himself and Jungkook before he lost himself completely. But his feet wouldn’t move.

For the first time in his life, Taehyung wasn’t sure what to do next.

“You can walk away,” Jungkook said, as if reading his thoughts. “But you won’t. Not until you figure out what this is.”

Taehyung’s eyes narrowed. “And what is ‘this’?”

Jungkook’s eyes darkened, and for a moment, the playful smirk vanished, replaced by something more intense. “It’s what happens when two forces that aren’t meant to meet collide.”

Taehyung’s chest tightened. He didn’t like where this was going, but he couldn’t deny the truth in Jungkook’s words. Something had shifted between them, something that went beyond the mission. And for the first time in his life, Taehyung didn’t know how to handle it.

Without another word, Taehyung turned and left the room, the weight of Jungkook’s gaze burning into his back. As he stepped out into the cold night air, his mind raced with questions he couldn’t answer.

One thing was certain, though: this wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

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