When the Clock Strikes|Pi Han Ul x Reader|

Chapter 61

I walk to school with a smile that refuses to leave my face.

The sky is a soft shade of blue, the kind that makes you feel like the world isn't so bad after all. The breeze is light, teasing the strands of my hair, and everything feels a little too bright, a little too dreamlike. Or maybe it's just me. Maybe it's the way my chest still feels warm from last night, the way my skin remembers the weight of his hand, the way my fingers still tingle from where they had rested against his abs-

I press my lips together, fighting the grin threatening to spill onto my face.

He took me home safely. Four in the morning, the world still asleep, and we walked back hand in hand, fingers laced together like something delicate, like something that could break if held too tightly. And the entire time-

"I'm sorry," he had said for the hundredth time. "I shouldn't have-"

"Stop," I had whispered back. "It's my fault too."

But he wouldn't let me take the blame. He kept shaking his head, kept saying no, no, no, like he couldn't stand the thought of it. And I? I had just wanted him to stop apologizing. I had wanted him to understand that I didn't regret anything.

And now, as I step through the school gates, I still feel the echoes of that moment lingering in my bones. I still feel his warmth wrapped around me like a ghost.

I keep my steps steady. I keep my expression neutral.

Because rules are rules.

Because we agreed-no acknowledging each other in school. No lingering glances. No whispered words. No giving them anything to suspect.

So when I see him, walking with Minhwan and a few other guys near the gate, I pretend I don't.

I wasn't looking at him. I wasn't searching for his eyes. I wasn't letting my gaze linger on the way his sleeves are rolled up, on the way his hair falls slightly over his
forehead, on the way his presence fills every space like he belongs there.

I don't, I don't, I don't.

But I feel him.

I feel his eyes on me, steady, unmoving.

And then-

"Yo." Minhwan's voice cuts through the air, casual, teasing. I barely glance at him before something is stretched out toward me.

A strawberry milk.

My favorite.

"Here," Minhwan says, shaking the carton lightly. "I got it for you."

I didn't stop walking. I didn't even look at him properly. I barely let my gaze flicker to Han-Wool, who stands silent beside him.

"I don't want it," I say, my voice smooth, uninterested, distant.

Minhwan makes a sound, somewhere between amused and mock-offended. "Still so cold," he muses, watching me walk past.

And I can feel it.

The weight of eyes. The unspoken questions lingering in the air.

How does Minhwan know my favorite is strawberry milk?

Why is he giving it to me?

I keep walking. Keep my head high. Keep my heart steady.

As I step into the classroom, I let out a quiet breath, steadying myself. The weight of unspoken thoughts still lingers, but I push them aside, settling into my seat.

But before I can even take a moment, two figures appear in front of me.

Ji-Woo and Hui-Won.

Their faces are filled with anticipation, and I barely get the chance to react before Ji-Woo speaks first, her voice animated.