When the Clock Strikes|Pi Han Ul x Reader|

(S02) Chapter 19

Not looking uncomfortable.

No.

No, no, no.

This wasn't supposed to hurt this much.

But it did.

It hurt so badly I felt like I might collapse right there in the hallway.

I forced myself to move before my body betrayed me. Before the burning in my chest turned into something uncontrollable.

I stumbled downstairs, barely feeling the steps beneath me. My hands curled into fists, nails digging into my palms, anything to ground myself.

Don't cry.

Don't cry.

Don't let them see.

The scent of breakfast filled the air, warm and inviting, but I barely registered it. My eyes stung, my throat tightened, but I swallowed it down.

I would not break here.

Not in front of them.

I pulled out a chair at the dining table, my movements stiff, mechanical. My hands trembled slightly as I reached for a piece of toast, but I forced myself to take a bite.

Chew. Swallow. Breathe.

Like nothing happened.

Like I didn't just watch the man who used to be mine sit there and let someone else hold him.

The moment Han Wool stepped into the hall, I felt it.

A shift in the air, a subtle pull of energy that was impossible to ignore.

His expression was tired-shoulders slightly slouched, face blank, like he hadn't slept well. His hair was slightly tousled, and he walked with a kind of heaviness that I wasn't used to seeing on him.

Behind him, Harin followed closely, her voice soft but urgent.

"Han Wool-wait."

She reached for his arm, trying to catch his attention, her brows furrowed in worry.

But he didn't stop.

Didn't turn to her.

Didn't even acknowledge her voice.

He simply pulled out a chair and sat across from me at the dining table.

Harin hesitated before finally sitting down next to him.

I pretended not to notice any of it.

I focused on my food, cutting my toast into smaller pieces with my fork, acting as if the sight of him so drained, so distant, didn't stir something painful inside me.

The silence stretched as he grabbed a spoon, poking at his rice absentmindedly.

Then-

A hand.

Harin's.

It slid over his, her fingers curling lightly around his wrist in a touch that was meant to be comforting.

I felt something twist in my chest.

But before I could even process it-

Han Wool subtly pulled his hand away.

Not roughly. Not aggressively.

Just enough to dismiss the touch, his attention still solely on his food.

The air around the table tensed for a split second before aunty finally spoke.

"Ye Na, are you free today?"