When the Clock Strikes|Pi Han Ul x Reader|

(S02) Chapter 9

[User: ConspiracyAddict]
This is giving witness protection program vibes. Are you sure he wasn’t involved in something that required a complete identity change??

[User: DramaQueen1996]
This is SO much better than any Netflix drama. I need live updates. Daily. Also, HOW are you handling the engagement part? Because I would’ve murdered the cousin.

[User: NotAnExpert]
Real talk: Maybe he had an accident, lost his memory, and his ‘new parents’ took him in? Or he was forced to cut ties with his old life? Either way, YOU NEED ANSWERS.

[User: BurnTheBride]
Not me scrolling at 2 AM trying to solve your life mystery like I’m Sherlock Holmes. You need to dig deeper. FAST.

[User: EmotionalDamage101]
If I were you, I would be investigating everything. The parents, his past, his medical history—SOMETHING doesn’t add up.

I think I should investigate home more.
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I hear the car before I see it.

The low, steady hum of the engine rolling up the driveway. The soft click of doors opening. The sound of them.

I don’t even realize I’m moving until I’m already at the door, fingers curled around the handle. I hesitate, but then I hear Harin’s voice—bubbly, excited, satisfied—and something in me tightens.

I step out into the hallway, moving toward the railing. From here, I can see them clearly. Too clearly.

Harin is standing at the door, surrounded by her parents. She’s glowing, eyes bright as she gushes about their day.

“It was amazing,” she’s saying, hands moving dramatically. “The designs, the decorations—it’s all coming together so perfectly.”

Her mother clasps her hands together, beaming. “I knew it would be wonderful! You have such a good eye for these things.”

I barely hear her.

Because he’s there too.

Han Wool stands beside Harin, arms filled with shopping bags. Too many.

His hair is slightly tousled, his shirt a little wrinkled—like they had fun. Like they laughed and made memories together.

Like they were a real couple.

“Aigoo, Han Wool, you’re carrying too much!” Harin’s mother fusses.

He just grins. “It’s fine.”

Then—

“I’ll take them to her room,” he says easily, shifting the bags in his arms.

My breath catches.

He steps onto the stairs.

He’s coming up.

Toward me.

I don’t move.

I can’t.

As he reaches the top, his eyes lift—and find mine.

The world still.

For a second, just one second, it feels like we are the only two people here. Like no one else exists.

Then—

He smiles.

Soft. Unbothered. Like we’re something simple. Like we aren’t standing on opposite ends of something too broken to fix.

I turn away.

I walk back into my room, closing the door behind me a little too hard.

My chest is tight as I sit on the bed, hands fisting the sheets.

This isn’t right.

None of this is right.

His memory loss? Maybe because of that accident? But It was a gunshot.

How does that erase me?

How does he forget our entire past?

I feel sick.

And angry.

And—

A knock at my door.

I look up, startled.

The door nudges open slightly, and he’s there.

Standing in my doorway, looking at me like I’m some puzzle piece that doesn’t fit.

I blink. “What are you doing here?”

He leans against the frame, arms now free of shopping bags. “You’re mad, aren’t you?”

I scoff. “Excuse me?”

His lips twitch. “You’re mad because we didn’t take you with us today.”

His voice is teasing, laced with amusement, but his eyes—they linger.

I scoff, arms crossing over my chest. “Mad? Why would I be mad? It’s not like I wanted to go.”

He tilts his head, stepping further into my room like he belongs here. Like there aren’t a hundred reasons why he shouldn’t be. “You sure about that?”

I exhale sharply. “Yes.”

He hums, unconvinced. “Because, from what I remember, you were very persistent this morning.”

I glare at him. “I had a reason.”

His lips twitch. “Oh yeah? What reason?”

I open my mouth—then shut it.

Shit.

Han Wool grins. “That’s what I thought.”

He’s too close now, standing just a few steps away. Close enough that I catch the faintest scent of his cologne, something fresh and clean and infuriatingly familiar.

And then—

He lifts a hand.

For a second, I think he’s going to touch me.

For a second, I want him to.

But instead, his fingers barely brush the fabric of my sleeve before he pulls away, smirking like he knows.

Like he can hear the way my heart just betrayed me.

“You should sleep,” he says, voice lighter now, stepping back. “You look like you’re thinking too much. It’s bad for your health.”

I blink, still caught in whatever the hell that just was.

Then, I snap out of it.

“Oh? You’re worried about me now?” I cross my arms, trying to shove away whatever stupid warmth is spreading in my chest.

Han Wool shrugs. “What can I say? You’re my fiancée’s cousin. Wouldn’t want you collapsing at the wedding.”

My fingers twitch. I should throw something at him.

Instead, I force my face into a blank expression. “Right. The wedding.”

His smile falters—just for a second.

Then, he shoves his hands in his pockets. “Anyway. Get some rest.”

And just like that, he turns away, walking back toward the door.

I watch his back, my chest tight, my stomach a complete mess.

And before I can stop myself, before I can think—

I whisper, “Do you really not remember me?”

He stops.

Just for a second.

But he doesn’t turn around.

Doesn’t answer.

Then—

He leaves.