When the Clock Strikes|Pi Han Ul x Reader|

(S02) Chapter 35

And Minhwan…

Seven years locked up. For nothing but a single act of rebellion.

I still hadn’t processed the weight of that. The cruelty of it. And yet, Minhwan joked like he had lost nothing. Laughed like he hadn’t been stripped of years.

Maybe that’s why I couldn’t sleep.

Because even when I looked forward—to tomorrow, to the car ride, to wherever Han Wool planned to take me—I still felt chained to everything behind me.

Still felt like a traitor.

Still felt like that little girl in the corner of her childhood bedroom, covering her ears while the world broke around her.

But maybe that’s what love is. Not the escape. Not the fix.

But the person who stands still while you fall apart.

Suddenly a knock-

The knock was soft—barely a tap. I didn’t even flinch. My back was to the door, curled inward like the world might forget I existed if I just stayed still enough.

But the creak of the door gave him away.

I didn’t have to turn to know who it was. His steps were quieter than usual—like he didn’t want to wake some part of me. Or maybe some part of him.

The mattress dipped behind me.

A pause.

And then warmth. His arm looped gently over my waist, settling like it belonged there. No pressure. No demand. Just presence.

I blinked into the dark, voice soft. “You sneak into girls’ rooms often?”

“Only the ones who steal my heart and then try to run away with it.”

I huffed. Almost a laugh. He shifted closer, our bodies aligned now, chest to back. I could feel the way his breath moved—slow, even. Like I was the only thing grounding him.

“Min Hwan’s snoring like a grandpa,” he murmured near my ear. “I swear, it sounds like he swallowed a chainsaw.”

I smiled, barely. “You two used to share a room before?”

“Yeah. A long time ago.” A pause. “He used to sleep like a cat. Light. Calm. But now? It took him two hours just to fall asleep. He kept tossing and scratching his head like... like he didn’t know where he was.”

I turned to face him slowly. Our noses nearly brushed. “He’s been through a lot.”

Han Wool’s face fell a little, shadows softening his features. “Seven years. And it was all for not sending you a letter.”

“I know.” My fingers curled over his shirt. “He never even got the chance to say goodbye.”

Han’s voice was quieter now. “He didn’t deserve it. None of it.”

Silence pressed in. Not heavy. Just real.

He stared at me for a long time, eyes flicking between mine. “You looked so tired earlier. Still do.”

“I am.”

“But you’re still thinking.”

I didn’t deny it.

He reached up and brushed a piece of hair away from my face. “Is it Harin?”

I nodded slowly. “It’s always her. And everything else. The hospital. My friends. The weight of running away.”

He watched me, not interrupting.

“I keep thinking,” I said, my voice cracking slightly, “what if I’m making a mistake?”