When the Clock Strikes|Pi Han Ul x Reader|

(S02) Chapter 7

The dress lay on my bed, staring back at me like an unspoken challenge.

It was elegant, black with a structured fit, adorned with delicate buttons that glinted under the warm light of my room. My aunt had sent it earlier with a simple message:

"Wear this tonight. And remember—if anything unfair happens, tell me."

She seemed like she was on my side. And yet… she let Harin and her family live here all these years. Why?

I clenched my jaw. I didn’t know the answer, and I didn’t have time to dwell on it.

I wasn't going to back down tonight.

I stood up and slipped into the dress. The fabric hugged my frame, fitting perfectly. Too perfectly. Had my aunt gotten it custom-made? The thought unsettled me, but I pushed it aside.

I stepped in front of the mirror.

Dark, round buttons trailed down the front, adding a touch of vintage class. The structured shoulders gave me an air of confidence—one I desperately needed tonight. The skirt was just the right length, neither too short nor too long, revealing my pale legs.

It was stunning.

And I hated it.

Not because it wasn’t beautiful, but because it felt like armor. Like I was preparing for a battle.

I met my own gaze in the mirror.

Dark eyes, filled with emotions I couldn't quite name. Determination. Uncertainty. A flicker of anger.

Tonight, I would face Han Wool again.

Tonight, I would watch him smile beside my cousin.

And no matter how much it hurt…

I wouldn’t let them see me break.

I took a deep breath and stepped out of my room.

The hallway was silent, yet the moment my heels touched the floor, I could feel their eyes on me.

At the bottom of the grand staircase, they were waiting.

My aunt, the only one smiling.

Harin's mom is there, not even looking at me, or refusing.
My uncle, standing beside her, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.

The man who had never treated me like family.

My uncle barely glanced at me, as if I was just another shadow in this house, as if I didn’t belong. The weight of old wounds pressed against my chest, but I refused to let them surface.

If they expected me to break, they would be disappointed.

The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating.

Then—

“Oh, finally!”

Harin’s voice.

I turned, and there she was.

Harin stepped down the stairs, her presence commanding attention. She wore an elegant ivory dress, the silk fabric hugging her frame in all the right places. The high neckline was adorned with a delicate bow, giving an air of sophistication, while the puffed sleeves added a touch of vintage grace. The ruched detailing along her waist draped effortlessly, enhancing her poised silhouette.

Her long, dark waves cascaded over one shoulder, perfectly styled yet appearing naturally flawless. A pair of pearl-drop earrings glimmered softly, complementing her refined beauty. She looked every bit the perfect fiancée—graceful, composed, and breathtakingly untouchable.