You and your sparring partner, Childe, were so stuck on the idea of beating each other that you had no clue the gym had closed. As you finished up your last match. Childe won. Again. His dull false sword to your chest.

"I win..again," he teased, earning a heavy sigh from you. You made your way, chest still heaving, to the front door of the gym. You twisted the knob and shoved the door to know avail. "It's a pull. probably," Childe said, trying to pull the door open. also to no avail. Oh.