When the Clock Strikes|Pi Han Ul x Reader|

(S02) Chapter 36

Han Wool brushed his thumb over my knuckles beneath the table.

Minhwan glanced at us and made a face. “Disgusting.”

“You’re just jealous,” I said.

He leaned back with a smirk. “Of PDA? Please. I’ve been locked away for seven years and even I have standards.”

We all laughed. Quiet and real.
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“We’re leaving,” I muttered, already heading for the car.

“Oh, I know,” Min Hwan called, tone sing-song. “Good luck with your great escape this evening. Don’t forget snacks.”

I glanced back just as Han Wool opened the door for me, and Min Hwan winked. The idiot. But... maybe the kind of idiot I was glad to have back.

Han Wool got in beside me, and the car hummed to life.

I looked down at our joined hands resting on my thigh, his thumb drawing slow circles against my skin like he didn’t even realize he was doing it.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked.

I turned to him. “About how strange this all feels.”

“Strange good or strange bad?”

“Both,” I said honestly. “I feel like we’ve lived three lifetimes since yesterday. And now we’re just... driving.”

His gaze didn’t leave the road, but I felt his fingers tighten around mine. “I like this part of us. Just you and me. No noise.”

I smiled softly. “Yeah.”

The city slipped away behind us. Buildings turned into trees. The air smelled different out here—less of concrete, more of something quiet and green.

“I’m scared,” I whispered. “Still.”

He didn’t try to reassure me with empty promises. He just nodded. “Me too. But this time, I won’t let go.”

My heart ached in that full, fragile way. I turned toward the window, breathing slowly. The world was moving outside, but inside the car it felt like time had slowed just for us.

After a long moment, he spoke again, quietly, “Where do you want to go, Ye Na?”

I looked over at him. “It’s not the place that matters.”

That made him smile—the kind of smile that wasn’t about lips, but eyes.

We kept driving.

He reached out, turned on the song. Something soft played, background music to the way my chest felt too small for everything inside it. I rested my head back against the seat.

“Do you regret it?” he asked, breaking the silence again.

“What?”

“Saying yes.”

I shook my head. “I don’t know what’s ahead. But I know I want to face it with you.”

He didn’t respond. Just lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it—gently, like a promise.

I leaned my head against the window, watching the city come back to life around us. The closer we got to the hospital, the more real everything felt again—like that fragile bubble of peace we’d found on the road was already fading.

When he pulled up in front of the main entrance, he shifted into park but didn’t move. Neither of us did. The hospital loomed in front of us, all glass and steel and fluorescent exhaustion. People in scrubs walked by. A nurse glanced at our car, then kept going.