When the Clock Strikes|Pi Han Ul x Reader|

(S02) Chapter 21

Her fingers tighten around the chain of her necklace, her nails pressing into her palm. But she keeps her voice light, keeps the forced smile on her face.

“That’s so nice of you,” she says. Then, with a soft tilt of her head, “You should come in. Have supper with us.”

Han Wool doesn’t hesitate. “I’m already late,” he says flatly. His hand reaches for the gear shift. “See you.”

And just like that—he drives off.

Harin watches as his car disappears down the street, her jaw tightening slightly.

Then—her attention turns back to me.

Her expression is unreadable for a moment, her eyes scanning my face carefully, as if looking for something.

“Were you crying?” she finally asks.

I let out a small breath, shaking my head. “No.”

She doesn’t believe me. I can see it in the way she lingers, the way she hesitates before speaking again.

“You’ve been acting weird lately,” she says slowly. “By any chance, you—”

“I’m going to my room,” I cut her off.

She blinks, slightly taken aback by my abruptness.

But I don’t care.

I don’t have the energy to entertain whatever conversation she wants to have.

So without waiting for her response, I step past her and head straight for my room.

The second I step into my room, I lock the door behind me and lean against it, pressing my forehead to the cool wood.

My heart is still racing.

My lips are still tingling.

And my mind—my mind is a complete mess.

I inhale deeply, but it does nothing to steady the storm inside me. The taste of him still lingers on my tongue, the heat of his hands still burns on my skin. My body remembers him too well, even if his mind doesn’t.

I squeeze my eyes shut.

This is ridiculous.

I shouldn't be feeling like this.

I push myself off the door and walk toward my bed, dropping my phone onto the nightstand. My fingers hover over my lips for a second before I shake my head and drag my hands down my face.

Why did I let that happen?

Why did I let him kiss me?

Why did I kiss him back?

I groan, flopping onto the bed and staring at the ceiling. The light above me feels too bright, so I reach over and turn off my bedside lamp, letting the dim glow of the streetlights outside filter through my curtains instead.

The house is quiet now.

Harin hasn’t come knocking, which I’m grateful for. I don’t have the energy to deal with her right now. Not after everything that happened.

I turn on my side, hugging a pillow close to my chest.

The moment I close my eyes, his face flashes in my mind again—his dark gaze, the slight smirk on his lips, the way he looked at me when he asked if I wanted to know how to kiss.

I press my face deeper into the pillow.

I hate him.

I hate him so much.