When the Clock Strikes|Pi Han Ul x Reader|

(S02) Chapter 16

“You have to stop this,” he says, quieter now.

I shake my head, gripping the jacket tighter around me. My knuckles are white from how hard I’m clenching it. “I can’t.”

Han Wool exhales sharply, pressing his fingers against his temple like he’s trying to think through the mess I’ve thrown at him. “Ye Na… this isn’t how things work.”

I let out a breathless, bitter laugh. “Then how do things work, Han Wool?”

His jaw tightens. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, like he’s looking for the right words but can’t seem to find them. “You don’t get to decide things by yourself,” he finally says, voice strained. “There are consequences. Harin, my family, your family— this isn’t just about you.”

I inhale sharply. “But it is about me,” I whisper. “Because I’m the one who has to live with it.”

His brows furrow. “Live with what?”

I swallow the lump in my throat, my vision blurring again. “Watching you love someone else.”

A heavy silence falls between us.

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. He looks away for a moment, like he needs time to process what I just said, but then his gaze snaps back to mine. His expression is unreadable, but there’s something in his eyes that makes my chest ache.

“Ye Na…” He says my name like it hurts to say it.

I laugh, but it’s shaky, breathless. “You keep saying my name like that.” My voice wavers. “Like I’m something fragile.”

Han Wool exhales. “Because you are.”

I flinch. “I don’t need your pity.”

“It’s not pity,” he snaps, his voice sharp enough to cut. “It’s reality.”

I force myself to meet his gaze. “Then let me live in my own reality.”

He clenches his jaw, his eyes darkening. “You’re being selfish.”

I let out a shaky breath. “Maybe I am.”

He shakes his head, his hands clenched into fists. “Ye Na… we don’t always get what we want.”

I let out a choked laugh, stepping back. “Yeah.” My lips tremble. “I know that better than anyone.”

Han Wool looks at me, really looks at me, like he’s trying to understand something that doesn’t make sense.

Then, he sighs, rubbing his temples. “Ye Na…” His voice is softer now, less certain. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be.”

I shake my head. “No, I’m just saying the truth. My truth.”

His lips part slightly, like he wants to argue, but then he exhales again.

For a moment, neither of us speaks.

The night air is cold against my tear-streaked skin.

Han Wool stares at me, his expression unreadable, but his eyes tell a different story. There’s conflict, hesitation—something I don’t think even he understands.

Then, in a voice so quiet I barely hear it—

“This isn’t fair.”

A sharp, searing pain cuts through me.

I open my mouth to say something, anything—but the words won’t come out.

Because I know he’s right.

Nothing about this is fair.

Not the years that separated us. Not the twisted fate that brought us back together like this. Not the fact that he doesn’t remember me, doesn’t remember us.

And definitely not the fact that he’s engaged to my cousin.

Tears burn my eyes again, but I force them back. I won’t cry in front of him. Not again.

Han Wool drags a hand down his face, looking exhausted. Then, finally, he speaks.

“Come on.” His voice is quieter now. “Let’s go home.”

I hesitate.

I don’t want to go.

I don’t want to leave things like this, hanging between us like an open wound.

But I also know that if I stay any longer, I might completely fall apart.

So I nod.

And when Han Wool turns and starts walking, I follow.

—

We walk in silence.

The night is quiet except for the sound of our footsteps against the pavement. The occasional streetlight flickers as we pass, casting long shadows on the ground.

Han Wool keeps his hands in his pockets, his gaze fixed straight ahead. He looks like he’s deep in thought, like he’s trying to process everything that just happened.

I hug the jacket closer to me, the scent of him still lingering in the fabric.

I don’t know what I expected when I confessed.

That he’d suddenly remember? That he’d look at me the way he used to? That something inside him would recognize me, even if his mind couldn’t?

But all I got was silence. A hesitation. And then reality slamming into me like a freight train.

My chest aches.

We finally reach his car.

He opens the door for me without a word.

I hesitate for a moment before getting in.

The drive back is just as silent.

Han Wool doesn’t turn on the music like he did on the way here today. He doesn’t make any sarcastic remarks or complain about my existence like he did earlier today.

He just drives.

And I just sit there, staring out the window, feeling like something inside me is breaking.

I don’t know how long we drive.