When the Clock Strikes|Pi Han Ul x Reader|

Chapter 12

The library was quiet. 

Dim lighting. The faint scent of old books. Rows of shelves stretching far into the corners. 

I exhaled, dropping into a chair, resting my arms on the wooden table. 

Finally. Peace. 

Or so I thought. 

"Are you hurt?" 

I nearly jumped out of my skin. 

I turned sharply—only to find Ga-Min standing there, his eyes scanning me, concern flickering beneath his usual calm expression. 

"What the hell," I breathed, pressing a hand to my chest. "How long have you been following me?" 

Ga-Min blinked. "Since the cafeteria." 

I gawked at him. "And you didn’t say anything?" 

"You didn’t notice," he said simply, as if that explained everything. 

Silence settled between us, but not the uncomfortable kind. It was the kind where neither of us knew what to say next. 

Then— 

"I never expected you to do it." 

I frowned. "Do what?" 

His gaze softened slightly. "Throw Seok Jeongan across the cafeteria." 

I tilted my head. "You expected me to do something else?" 

Ga-Min hesitated, then shrugged. "You don’t usually fight back. I thought you’d walk away." 

I let out a slow breath. "I didn’t have a choice." 

He nodded, but something in his expression remained thoughtful. "Maybe. But…" He studied me carefully, then said, "It wasn’t just about not having a choice, was it?" 

I looked away. "I don’t know." 

Ga-Min pulled out the chair across from me and sat down. He didn’t press for an answer. He just sat there, as if waiting, as if giving me the space to figure it out myself. 

We stayed like that for a while. The air between us felt different—quieter, but not lonely. 

"If you’re not fine later," Ga-Min said eventually, his voice softer than before, "you should tell me." 

I blinked, caught off guard. 

"What?" 

He adjusted his glasses, like this was just another fact he was stating, another truth as simple as gravity. 

"I won’t know unless you say something," he explained. "So if you stop being fine, just tell me." 

I stared at him. 

Ga-Min wasn’t good with emotions. He didn’t always understand them, didn’t always say the right things. 

But that didn’t mean he ignored them. 

And right now—this is his way of caring. 

I swallowed, looking down at my hands. "Noted." 

He nodded once, like that settled everything. 

We didn’t speak after that. 

No more words. No more questions. 

Just silence. 

But somehow— 

It didn’t feel heavy anymore.

It wasn’t suffocating.