The morning sun hit the quiet street as you trudged toward school, fingers tangled in your big, poofy curls. Yoon-seok limped beside you, his crutches scraping lightly against the pavement.

“I swear, these curls have a mind of their own,” you muttered, tugging at a stubborn lock.

He glanced at you, eyes flicking to your hair, and let out a small, almost imperceptible laugh. “Looks… lively,” he said, shrugging casually.

You shot him a skeptical look, but the corner of your mouth twitched anyway. Yoon-seok kept his gaze forward, but you caught a quiet spark of amusement in his eyes, like he was enjoying your struggle a little more than he should.