When the Clock Strikes|Pi Han Ul x Reader|

(S02) Chapter 31

I opened my mouth to argue, but then I thought back to the reunion—to Seok Kyung’s endless gossiping, Ha Ya’s sarcastic remarks, the way we all laughed at old stories.

"I guess," I admitted.

Tae Sung’s fingers tapped lightly against the steering wheel. "It’s nice seeing you like that."

I glanced at him, but he was focused on the road, his expression unreadable.

Feeling suddenly self-conscious, I shifted the conversation. "What about you? Did you enjoy tonight?"

He smiled slightly. "It was nostalgic. Good to see familiar faces again."

I studied him for a moment. "And? Any regrets about the past?"

His grip on the wheel tightened for just a second before he relaxed again. "Maybe one."

I frowned, about to ask what he meant, but he smoothly changed the subject. "Do you still drink iced Americanos like you used to?"

I blinked at the sudden switch. "What?"

"You always had one with you back in university," he said, glancing at me briefly. "No matter the season, no matter the time of day—always an iced Americano in your hand."

I scoffed. "Okay, that’s an exaggeration."

"It’s not," he said, amused. "I remember you walking into morning lectures with it, and then again after lunch. It was practically your signature accessory."

I rolled my eyes. "Fine. I still drink them."

He smirked. "I figured."

The car slowed as we neared my apartment building.

Tae Sung pulled up in front of the entrance.

"Thanks for the ride," I said, unbuckling my seatbelt.

"Anytime," he replied easily.

I stepped out and started to walk away, then-

"Ye Na."

I turned back to him.

He hesitated for a moment, then smiled. "Goodnight."

I studied him for a second, then gave a small nod. "Goodnight".

And with that, I stepped further to the house.

Han Wool was standing there.

He was leaning against the wall, lazily tossing a small stone up and catching it in his palm, but his eyes—his sharp, unreadable eyes—were locked on me. He wasn’t smiling. He wasn’t saying a word. He was just watching.

For a moment, I forgot how to breathe.

The streetlight cast a glow over his face, highlighting the tense set of his jaw, the flicker of emotion in his gaze. My heart skipped, then raced, warmth blooming in my chest just from the sight of him.

The sound of Tae Sung’s car pulling away barely registered in my mind.

Han Wool lifted his phone, still on a call, but instead of speaking, he just… stared.

I took a hesitant step forward. “Han Wool—”

He cut the call.

“You know,” he said, his voice low, casual—but there was an edge to it. “This is ridiculous".

I blinked. “What?”

He pushed off the wall, slipping his phone into his pocket. “Why are you coming home in his car?”