When the Clock Strikes|Pi Han Ul x Reader|

(S02) Chapter 16

I hate that I waited all these years for him.

I hate that after all this time—

He looked me in the eyes and told me I meant nothing to him.

I don’t know how long I stay there, curled up on the side of an empty road, completely wrecked.

But then—

Something warm drapes over my shoulders.

A jacket.

I sniffle, my cries quieting, my body trembling.

Slowly—hesitantly—I lift my head.

And there he is.

Han Wool.

His expression—

God.

He looks drained. Completely out of breath. His hair is messy, his eyes frantic, dark circles forming under them.

And—he’s worried.

For me.

“I’ve been looking everywhere,” he mutters, his voice strained. “Where the hell were you?”

I blink at him, my lips parting, but nothing comes out.

Han Wool exhales sharply, running a hand down his face. “I checked the lake, the roads, even went back to the city. I thought—” He stops himself, inhaling deeply before kneeling in front of me.

“Come on,” he says, softer this time. “Let’s go. It’s late.”

I shake my head. I don’t even know why—I just do.

Han Wool sighs, but instead of getting frustrated, his voice stays gentle. “Ye Na. Please.”

I hesitate. My throat tightens again, and I look away.

Then, quietly—so quietly I almost don’t hear myself—I say it.

“Han Wool.”

He stills.

“I love you.”

Silence.

A heavy, suffocating silence.

My fingers grip the jacket around me. “I won’t let this marriage happen,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “Because I like you. I always have.”

Han Wool stares at me.

His jaw clenches. His lips part like he wants to say something, but no words come out.

I swallow the lump in my throat and continue, my voice hoarse, exhausted. “I’ll fight for you. To the end. Until you’re mine".

Han Wool exhales, long and slow. Then, finally, he speaks.

“Ye Na…”

I flinch.

He shakes his head, his voice soft but firm. “You’re my fiancée’s cousin.”

I close my eyes.

I know that.

I don’t care.

My lips tremble.

He watches me, the conflict clear in his eyes. “This isn’t right.”

I force a broken laugh. “Is it?”

Han Wool drags a hand down his face, his shoulders tense, like he’s carrying something heavy—something unbearable. His eyes flicker with something I can’t place—frustration, exhaustion, something else that makes my stomach twist.