When the Clock Strikes|Pi Han Ul x Reader|

Chapter 36

The waves whispered against the shore, their rhythm slow and endless, the only sound filling the empty night. The beach stretched into darkness, untouched and lonely, mirroring the quiet between them. The air smelled of salt, the breeze carrying a soft chill, but neither of them spoke as they walked along the water’s edge. 

Cheonga’s bare feet pressed into the cold sand, but she barely felt it. The night sky loomed above her, vast and uncaring, but her mind was trapped somewhere else—somewhere far away, in the past, in the wounds that never truly healed. 

Han-Wool walked beside her, hands in his pockets, his expression as calm as ever. His footsteps were steady, unfaltering. But he noticed—how she was slowing down, how her frame was trembling just slightly, how the salt on her face wasn’t from the sea breeze but from the tears that hadn’t stopped falling. 

He exhaled softly, then suddenly stopped. 

Cheonga, lost in her thoughts, took a few more steps before realizing he was no longer beside her. She turned, confused, and saw him kneeling down in front of her. 

Her breath caught when she saw what he was doing. 

Without a word, he had slipped off his own shoes. 

Then, gently, he reached for her ankle. 

She stiffened. "W-What are you doing?"

"You're walking barefoot," he stated simply, his voice as indifferent as ever. "It’s cold."

She shook her head quickly, taking a step back. "I—I don’t need—"

But he didn’t listen. 

He caught her foot before she could move away and slowly slid his shoe onto her. The action was quiet, deliberate—not an act of kindness with words, not a gesture asking for thanks. Just something he did, like it was the most normal thing in the world. 

She stared at him, her vision blurring again. The weight in her chest grew heavier, but this time, it wasn’t just sadness—it was something else. Something unfamiliar. 

Before she could process it, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. 

"You’re still crying," he muttered, his voice barely audible over the wind. His fingers lingered at the edge of the jacket, adjusting it slightly to make sure it covered her completely. His eyes found hers, unwavering. "I’m here, so don’t worry."

A sharp breath escaped her.

She let out a small, shaky laugh, though tears were still in her eyes. 

"I… can’t help it," she whispered. 

They walked again, this time slower. The sand swallowed their footprints behind them, as if they had never been there at all. The vast, empty night felt heavier the longer they walked. 

Then, in a voice so soft it almost got lost in the wind, she spoke. 

"I had a family once." 

Han-Wool didn’t react, didn’t even glance at her, but she knew he was listening. 

"My parents were doctors," she continued, staring ahead at the endless waves. "Good ones. They worked in a hospital near my kindergarten" A pause. "One day, my mom took me with her to the hospital because I had a wound. It was just supposed to be a normal day. She said she'd buy me ice cream later." 

She swallowed, her hands gripping the jacket around her. 

"I never got to eat that ice cream." 

The night felt colder.