When the Clock Strikes|Pi Han Ul x Reader|

(S02) Chapter 42

He looked comfortable there—like someone who had done this a thousand times. He pulled his hoodie on lazily and started gathering ingredients, humming a familiar IU tune under his breath. I didn’t even have to ask. He already knew what I liked.

“Udon?” he asked, glancing at me from the stove.

I nodded with a lazy smile. “With mushrooms.”

“Already in,” he said with a wink.

He cooked like he kissed—gently, with intention. Every movement of his hands was fluid, like he wasn’t just making food but crafting comfort. He chopped, stirred, simmered, tasted, adjusted. I couldn’t stop watching him. His back, his hands, the slight furrow of his brow when he leaned closer to taste the broth.

The scent filled the room slowly—earthy, warm, home.

“Alright,” he said, setting the bowls on the low table. “Prepared by chef Han Wool. Udon with mushrooms and spring onions. A hint of soy, garlic, and my secret ingredient: affection.”

I snorted, sitting across from him in a fresh set of clothes—his shirt, actually. “Wow. That almost made me lose my appetite.”

He grinned. “Eat before I change my mind.”

We dug in. The warmth of the soup hit instantly, wrapping around my insides like a hug. I let out a soft hum of approval, and he watched me, amused.

“What?”

“You hum when you like food. It’s cute.”

“You noticed that?”

“I noticed everything.”

We ate in silence for a while, the good kind—the kind that doesn't need to be filled. Just the sound of chopsticks tapping ceramic and soft chewing, and every so often, a shared glance across the table.

After a while, I looked up. “This is perfect.”

“I’m glad.” He leaned back slightly, resting his hand behind his head, watching me. “You should eat like this every day. Warm food. Slow mornings.”

“And you’ll be my full-time chef?”

“Only if you’re my full-time disaster.”

I laughed, the sound slipping out before I could stop it. “Deal.”

He reached across the table, fingers brushing against mine. Not demanding, not urgent—just there. And I took his hand without even thinking.

“We should stay here forever,” I said.

“We might have to,” he said, only half-joking. “Until this whole thing sorts out.”

“I don’t mind.” I looked around. “It’s quiet here.”

He smiled. “Yeah. But you’re the quiet I needed, Ye Na. Not the silence.”

Something in my chest tightened.

He stood slowly, walking over to kneel beside me, brushing a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “You should rest. You haven’t really slept since…”

“I know,” I said softly.

He kissed my forehead. “Finish your bowl. Then I’ll tuck you in.”

“What are you, my nurse?”

“I’m your everything now,” he said, not teasing. Just real.

I didn’t reply. I couldn’t. I just let my eyes close, breathing in the moment.

And in a very long time—
I believed I might survive this story.
Because he was writing it with me.
Page by page.
Warm meal by warm meal.
Kiss by kiss.