𝑅𝑒𝒹 𝒮𝓉𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈-ᴄʜᴇɴʟᴇ

Outlaw~53

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If I had a dollar for my sins?
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Chenle's eyes bore into the uncooperative Chan, finding his silence irking.

Chan's sly eyes gleamed with disobedience, his lips curved into a annoying smirk as his mouth remained shut, showing that he wouldn't be bossed around, even if it would save his life.

Tongue tracing the inside of his cheek, Chenle huffed out as his eyes narrowed, fingers tapping rhythmically as he glared at the leader of Stray Kids. Pondering if he should just kill them, Chenle's unwelcoming irises pierced through the rivaling gang like a keen icicle- cold and sharp, sending shivers up his enemies' spines.

His eyes wandered towards his soulmate, yet the bitterness that constantly filled his pupils seemed to drain away, which didn't go unnoticed by Jeongin.

His harrowing gaze softened as his stare caught on Rin, watching as she fiddled with the hem of her shirt, bitting her lip nervously as her gaze flickered from face to face, desperately trying to find a reassuring expression to ensure the safety of everyone around her.

Her big, doe eyes were wide with anxiety, and her stomach was writhing with nervousness as she awaited for someone to speak, hoping it was all just a misunderstanding. Gaze constantly reaching Jeongin, who looked just as nervous as she did, she swallowed down a large lump in her throat.

Chenle felt a strange, unfathomed feeling bloom in his chest, so he immediately snapped his head towards his rival once again, eyes hardening into the deadly, frigid ones that were present before.

"Alright, we're in parley. Just a reminder that you agreed to this, and we still haven't come up with a compromise," Chenle explained, nails clacking against them table. "So speak, why don't you?"

Bitterness seeping through his tone, Chenle bit back the urge to seethe venomous insults caused by Chan's lack of compliance, for Chenle hated setbacks, and he hated wasting his time.

But Bang Christoper just kept his lips clamped together, a dangerous mirth dancing in his eyes as he arrogantly gazed upon a rather annoyed Chenle, finding his irked nature quite amusing.

"You're lucky we don't kil-"

"Why don't you?" Chan suddenly interjected, leaving forward.

Chan sarcastically tilted his head curiously, his smirk growing as his eyes ravaged over Chenle, cocking a brow at Chenle's hesitance.

"Growing soft, is that it?" Chan suddenly accused, summoning a scoff you rise from Chenle's lips.

"Careful," Chenle warned coldly, cruelty dripping from his words.

Chenle's slitted shes glared malevolently at Chan, his irises swimming with utter distaste, itching to inflict some form of pain onto the boy just for thinking such a thing.

His fingers tiptoed towards his gun, skin grazing over the cold, dangerous surface of the pistol, doing the action almost subconsciously as words spewed from Chan's lips.

"Soulmates. First, they're just attractive, and the thought of them is rather pleasing. Then, they begin to grow on you, invading your thoughts a little too frequently," Chan described, causing Chenle's eyes to narrow.

Already hating where this conversation was going, Chenle's lips pursed together, trying to find Chan's goal.

"We're not here to talk about sou-"

"Then they're all you can think about," Chan recklessly continued, causing Chenle's hand on his lap to ball into a fist.

Irritated by Chan's constant interruptions, Chenle tongue ran along his teeth, sharp eyes piercing into Chan.

"Can't quite get her out of your head, can you?" Chan concluded, causing Chenle to roll his eyes. "Perhaps you can't even bare the thought of hurting them."

Smirk filled with malice, Chan's dark eyes glimmered with arrogance as he paused, easily fueling the fire of irritation that burned within Chenle's chest.

"And killing us- killing Jeongin, a member of Stray Kids would hurt her," Chan uttered, smug smile growing.

Chenle's jaw clenched, insides swirling with a mix of annoyance and rage, irked by the mere thought- or truth, rather- of Chenle's sudden merciful actions.

"You see, I'm in quite the dilemma, as you know, but you don't seem to be. You could kill us- you're known for being able to slaughter virtually anyone, and you've been around much longer than we have," He stated, waving his hand leisurely to emphasize his words. "So why don't you?"

Chenle's irises whirled with hatred as a flurry of toxic emotions rived Chenle's heart, causing a tornado of utter resentment to escape Chenle's ticker and ravage his ribcage.

Too personal; Chan's words hit home, and to Chenle, being soft was unthinkable, and made him an utter disgrace to the world of gangs and mafias, deeming him useless and weak. Being vulnerable in his line of business was practically an equivalent to being dead, and the accusations stabbed the boy like a knife, prodding the rage that had began to swirl within him.

Chenle had worked too hard, killed too many, and clawed his way up the ranks for too long to be called weak; to be called soft and defenseless.

"You don't want to hurt your precious soulmates feelings, Softy," He prevoked, eyes narrowing with impishness. "You won't kill us, and your threats are empty."

As if a twitch had been flipped within him, Chenle shot you from his seat, gun molded into his palm.

The knurled grip pressed comfortably in Chenle's hand, feeling too at home to contain a shred of innocence. Chenle's spiteful gaze held utter loathing and poisonous cruelty, fury rampaging through his chest as he steadily held his weapon, pointing it directly at Chan's head.

Familiar with the situation, Chan only smirked, staring down the barrel of the gun calmly as Chenle's face twisted with spleen- chin jutting out as he grinded his teeth together.

"Want to test that theory?" He fumed, finger itching to pull the trigger.

NCT Dream froze forever a moment, watching Chenle with various shocked expressions, whilst Stray Kids observed with both smug and surprised faces, glancing around wildly.

Changbin began to rise from his chair to defend Chan, expression clearly displaying resentment as he lurched upwards, but Chan simply put a hand out to stop him- gesturing him to resume his seated position.

"Looks like I struck a nerve," Chan quipped, chuckling lightly.

Tongue tracing his bottom lip, Chan's foreboading eyes flicked over Chenle's enraged form, watching as he blatantly displayed his urge to kill him, but still hesitated.

"Shoot me, and all of my members- all seven- with have the opportunity to shoot you right back, ending our parley," Chan uttered, leaning towards the gun ever so slightly. "And I don't think your little love will appreciate dying, nor will she like her dear brother's death."