When the Clock Strikes|Pi Han Ul x Reader|

(S02) Chapter 9

Breakfast is painful.

Not because of the food. The food is fine. Delicious, even.

Not because of the atmosphere. It’s awkward, yes, but nothing unbearable.

No.

It’s painful because Harin won’t stop glaring at me.

I swear she’s trying to burn a hole into my skull with the sheer intensity of her stare. Her fingers grip her spoon too tightly, her lips pressed into a thin line every time Han Wool so much as glances in my direction.

And he does. A lot.

Not in any meaningful way. Not in a way that says I know you or I remember you. But enough for Harin to notice.

And Harin notices everything.

I pretend I don’t care, pretend I don’t see the silent daggers she’s throwing at me.

But the weight of them? Unbearable.

I focus on my rice. Chew. Swallow. Ignore.

Harin scoots closer to him throughout the meal, pushing side dishes toward his plate with a sickeningly sweet, “Try this, Oppa.”

Han Wool, however, seems completely unbothered, eating leisurely, throwing in the occasional small talk, and—annoyingly—giving me those fleeting glances.

Glances that make Harin’s grip on her chopsticks tighten.

By the time breakfast is over, Harin is practically glued to his side, her fingers curled around his arm as if afraid I might snatch him away the moment she lets go.

Not that I would. Obviously.

Obviously.

But then—

“Oppa and I are going out today,” Harin announces suddenly, her voice just a little too loud.

My stomach twists.

“Oh?” Aunt Joo Won perks up. “Where to?”

“We have to go meet with the wedding planner,” Harin says, beaming. “Finalize some things for the wedding. You know how it is.”

I nearly drop my chopsticks.

Wedding planner?

They’re going alone?

Together?

For something wedding-related?

The thought makes my chest tighten, like an invisible force is wringing the air out of my lungs.

“Just the two of you?” Aunt Joo Won asks.

Harin nods proudly. “Of course! We need to have some time to ourselves, right, Oppa?”

I look at Han Wool.

He shrugs, completely indifferent. “Guess so.”

Harin beams.

It sounds painful.

It sounds awful.

It sounds like something I absolutely cannot allow to happen.

I rack my brain. There has to be a way.

“Maybe I should come,” I say suddenly.

Harin's mom looks up in surprise. “Oh? Why?”

Why? Why?

I don’t know.

Think, Ye Na. Think.

I clear my throat. “Uh, I mean, it’s just—” I glance at Harin, then at Han Wool. “Weddings are a family thing, right? I should, um, experience it. You know. As part of the family.”