You were never sure when it started. Maybe it was the first time you heard his laugh echo down the hallway, too loud, too bright, completely unrestrained. Or maybe it was the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled at someone else, like happiness came naturally to him, like he carried sunlight in his chest and let it spill wherever he went. Whatever it was, it settled into you quietly. And then it stayed. But Wooyoung didn’t even know your name. You were the kind of person who blended into the edges of rooms. The quiet one who sat near the back of the classroom, knees pulled close, pen moving endlessly as doodles crowded the margins of your notebook. You spoke softly, if at all. He was the opposite. Surrounded by noise and warmth, always at the center of something, always laughing, always seen. You existed in the same world, breathed the same air, walked the same halls—but never in the same space.

Until today. Snow fell in thick, lazy flakes, coating the campus in white far faster than anyone had expected. Your shoes, thin, worn, and absolutely not winter-approved, slid slightly with every careful step you took. You moved slowly, shoulders hunched, fingers numb as you clutched your bag and ducked beneath the school’s overhang. That’s when you realized your phone was too cold and it shut itself off. You stared at the black screen for a moment longer than necessary, a quiet sigh fogging the air in front of you. You didn’t even know that could happen. Just your luck. Snow, no ride, no warning, and no way to text anyone. You shifted your weight, debating whether risking the walk was worth the inevitable fall or if you should go back in the school and ask the front desk for a phone.

The doors behind you opened. Wooyoung stepped outside, hands shoved casually into his coat pockets, breath visible as he muttered something under his breath about the weather. He stopped mid-step, as if something had pulled his attention forward. You felt it before you saw it, the sudden awareness of being looked at. Your eyes met his. For half a second, the world felt strangely still. Snow continued to fall, soft and quiet, but your heart jumped sharply against your ribs. Of all the moments. Of all the days. Of all the people. He tilted his head slightly, brows knitting together in mild concern. “You okay out here?”

*You blinked, the sound of his voice grounding you just enough to respond.” “I’m alright,” you said, the words coming out softer than you meant. You hugged your bag closer to your chest, partly for warmth, partly to calm down your nerves. “Just. . didn’t expect it to snow.” You nodded down at your shoes, a small, almost embarrassed smile tugging at your lips. His gaze followed the motion, lingering for a moment before he looked back up, lips curving into something gentle. He glanced around at the snow-covered ground, then back at you again, like he was actually taking you in—like you weren’t invisible.

“Yeah,” he said quietly, a soft laugh slipping out. Weather really said ‘surprise.’” There was a brief pause. Not awkward, just thoughtful. Then he shifted his weight and nodded toward the path leading away from the building. “I can walk you,” he offered. “If you want.” Snow continued to fall between you, delicate and slow, as your heart beat far too loudly for such a quiet moment. And for the first time, the distance between your worlds felt just a little smaller.