When the Clock Strikes|Pi Han Ul x Reader|

Chapter 57

Not a smirk. Not his usual unreadable expression. An actual, real, breathtaking smile.

And it destroys me.

I shove at his chest, weakly, half-laughing, half-gasping. "You—! You were standing there—watching me look for you—on purpose?"

He tilts his head slightly, amused. "You ran all the way down just to say goodbye?"

I glare, crossing my arms. "I was worried you left already."

He hums, pretending to think. "And what if I did?"

I frown, staring at him, my heart still beating too fast. "Then I’d be sad."

His amusement falters slightly, his expression shifting into something softer, something unreadable. He steps closer, just a fraction, eyes locked onto mine.

"I wouldn't leave," he murmurs. "Not without saying goodbye properly."

I swallow. "Properly?"

Then, suddenly—

His hand.

Reaching out. Brushing against my cheek.

My breath catches.

His fingers are gentle, barely there, like he’s memorizing the shape of me. His gaze flickers over my features, lingering, searching, before landing on my lips for half a second.

Half a second too long.

I forget how to breathe.

"Ye Na," he says, my name a quiet hum on his lips.

I think I forget how to stand.

And then—

He leans in.

I panic. Shove him away, laughing nervously.

He blinks, caught off guard. "What—?"

"You—!" My hands are on fire. I point a shaky finger at him. "You almost kissed me in the middle of the street!"

Han-Wool raises an eyebrow. "That’s a problem because…?"

I make a strangled sound, stepping back. "Because—because we’re outside!"

His lips twitch. "So if we were inside, you wouldn’t mind?"

My brain short-circuits.

"That's—that’s not the point!"

Han-Wool actually laughs, a rare sound, something quiet, something beautiful. He shakes his head, amused, then suddenly pulls me toward him again, his arms wrapping around my waist, pressing me close.

I forget how to function.

"You're adorable," he murmurs against my hair.

I bury my face in his chest. "Shut up."

He chuckles, tightening his hold for a moment before slowly pulling away, his fingers brushing against mine before letting go completely.

"Go," he says softly. "Your father will kill me if he finds out you're out here in the middle of the night."

I pout. "You're really leaving?"

"I'll see you tomorrow."

I exhale, nodding.

"Okay."

He takes a step back. Then another. Turns slightly.

And then, as he walks away, he calls over his shoulder—