When the Clock Strikes|Pi Han Ul x Reader|

(S02) Chapter 35

Han Wool leaned his forehead against mine. “Then make it with me.”

My eyes fluttered shut. “That doesn’t make it better.”

“It does for me.”

I opened my eyes again. “Why are you like this?”

“Like what?”

“So sure. So... annoyingly calm.”

He chuckled. “Because I’ve already lost you once. And that nearly destroyed me. I’m not letting go this time.”

The silence stretched between us again, this time with a hum. Something warm. Something old and unspoken.

I spoke first. “I’m scared, Han Wool.”

“I know,” he said softly. “But you’re still here. With me. That’s enough.”

I traced the edge of his sleeve, fingers absent-minded. “I never thought we’d end up here. You. Me. Min Hwan".

He laughed, then sobered, pulling me a little closer. “He’s changed, too. But he still looked at me tonight like he was proud I made it this far. That I didn’t become... like them.”

My heart ached. “You never could.”

He looked down at me. “You know something?”

“What?”

“This is the first time in months I’ve felt like I can breathe.”

I reached for his hand, lacing our fingers together. “Then don’t let go.”

He kissed the back of my hand. “Never.”

My fingers stilled in his. Warmth bloomed in my chest, soft and confusing, like I didn’t know where to put it.

“I’m not very good at this,” I whispered.

“At what?” he asked, voice already softer just because mine was.

“This.” I motioned vaguely between us. “Love. Letting someone in. Letting someone stay.”

“You’re doing just fine,” he murmured, drawing our joined hands against his chest. “Actually, you’re kind of perfect at it.”

I looked at him—really looked. At the man who waited even when I had nothing to give. The man who showed up when no one else dared to knock.

“You always talk like you’re not afraid,” I said quietly.

He tilted his head. “I’m terrified.”

That surprised me. “Really?”

“Of course. Of losing you. Of you regretting this. Of accidentally stepping on Min Hwan’s weird lava lamp in the dark and breaking my ankle.”

I snorted.

“But,” he continued, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear, “loving you? That’s the only thing I’ve ever been sure of.”

I looked down at our hands again. “You’re saying things that make it really hard to stay mad at you.”

“That’s the idea.” He leaned in just a little, voice dropping. “And maybe you’re saying things that make it impossible for me not to kiss you.”

My breath caught.

But he didn’t kiss me.

He just watched me. Waiting. Always waiting.

I whispered, “Why didn’t you?”

He smiled, brushing his thumb along my cheek. “Because you look tired. And you’ve had a long day. And the last thing I want to be is one more thing pulling from you.”

I blinked.

My heart actually ached a little. In the good way.

“You’re ridiculous,” I muttered.

“I’m aware,” he replied proudly.

“You’re like... the dream guy women complain doesn’t exist.”

“Do I get a certificate for that?”

“Maybe I’ll print you one.”

His fingers laced tighter with mine. “Just stay with me. That’s enough.”

We lay in silence for a moment. My body, finally, beginning to unwind. My eyes fluttered half-shut.

“You’re blinking like you’re fighting sleep,” he said.

“Because I am.”

“Why?”

“Because if I sleep, morning comes faster.”

We stayed like that for a while—breathing in sync, hearts slowly settling. The storm outside our lives was still raging, but in this one quiet moment, we found something close to peace.

Something close to home.

And then, with a whisper softer than sleep:

“I’ll be here when morning comes, Ye Na. No matter what it brings.”

I didn’t answer.

I just moved closer, and finally—finally—I let sleep take me.