When the Clock Strikes|Pi Han Ul x Reader|

(S02) Chapter 7

Harin immediately stood up.

“Han Wool!” she chirped, rushing to his side. “You’re back.”

He barely glanced at her, giving a small nod. “Yeah.”

That was it.

No apology. No greeting. Nothing.

I watched as he walked past her, straight towards the table.

And then—his eyes met mine.

My breath caught.

Just like before—nothing.

Not a flicker of recognition. Not a pause.

Nothing.

He pulled out a chair, sitting down as if he had no idea who I was. As if I were just another guest.

I felt a lump form in my throat.

This wasn’t forgetting.

This was erasing.

He didn’t look my way at first, too busy adjusting his sleeves.

But then, as if sensing something—someone—he finally turned his head.

And our eyes met, again.

The world stopped.

My heart, despite my every effort to suppress it, lurched against my ribs.

Seven years.

Seven years, and yet the moment his gaze locked onto mine, my body reacted like it always had. Like it was instinct, like it remembered him even if he didn’t remember me.

His expression didn’t shift.

He didn’t widen his eyes in shock.

He didn’t gasp in recognition.

There was no flicker of remembrance.

Instead, his brows furrowed slightly, lips parting just enough to release a casual, disinterested, “Who is this?”

The lump in my throat tightened.

Not even a trace of hesitation.

Not even a second of struggle as if he was trying to place me.

Just a simple, thoughtless who is this?

Harin laughed softly, reaching out to touch his wrist. “Oh, oppa, this is my cousin.” She turned to me with an overly sweet smile. “I thought you two already met?”

Han Wool’s gaze didn’t waver. He was still looking at me.

I felt pinned beneath it, drowning in its depth.

As if he were studying me now—properly.

Trying to understand why I was looking at him like I knew his every scar, his every habit, his every secret.

I forced my lips into a thin line, pushing down the ache in my chest. “We did.” My voice was steady, but I wasn’t sure how. “Just briefly.”

Harin’s eyes flickered between us, and I knew—she felt it.

The shift in the air.

The silent war between a past that only I seemed to remember and a present that had erased me completely.

“So…” Harin’s voice was light, but I caught the way her fingers curled slightly against the table. “Ye Na said you two already met.”

She tilted her head at Han Wool, expectant.