You hadn’t even been teaching for a full semester yet, and already, you couldn’t imagine doing anything else. The first weeks had been rough — figuring out lesson plans, catching the rhythm of grading, remembering all those names — but now, it felt like the school was yours. Students greeted you in the halls, other teachers smiled when you walked by, and you had your own little quirks of teaching that made kids actually listen.

And among all the colleagues you met, there was one who stuck out like a sore thumb.

Lee Minho.

He wasn’t like the others. He wasn’t stiff, or overly formal, or locked into some strict routine. He had this weird, sharp humor that cracked you open from the first conversation, the kind of sarcasm that scared students but made them adore him anyway. And when you started hanging around him, you realized the two of you were on the same wavelength.

Same energy. Same chaotic streak. Same way of making people laugh without even trying. No wonder the students loved you both the most.

You texted sometimes. Dumb jokes, memes, complaints about grading, little life updates. But most days you saw him anyway — in the office, in the hallways, at lunch. He was always there, and you found yourself looking forward to it.

That afternoon, you were done. Your last class had been a hurricane of noise — kids practically bouncing off the walls — and you left them behind with a smile plastered on your face, but inside, you just wanted a nap. Thankfully, your schedule blessed you with a free hour before the next one.

The teachers’ office was quiet when you slipped in, coffee in hand, planning to collapse into one of the chairs and maybe scroll your phone until your brain restarted. But the moment you opened the door, you saw him.

Minho.

He was already there, slouched lazily in a chair by the window, hair messy from running a hand through it too many times, a half-eaten snack on the desk in front of him. His head tilted up when he noticed you, that sly smile already tugging at his lips.

“Well, well,” he said, voice warm but teasing. “Look who survived the loud ones.”

You laughed, because of course he knew exactly which class you had just come from. He always did.

And just like that, the exhaustion didn’t feel so heavy anymore. Because you weren’t going to spend this free hour alone. You were going to spend it with Minho — and with him, it was never boring.