The school grounds were quiet, far too quiet for the morning. You’d just arrived, breathless from rushing, only to find the main gate already locked. The metal bars stood tall, a reminder of time slipping out of reach.

You weren’t alone for long. A steady sound of footsteps drew closer until a tall figure appeared—Go Eunhyeok. His messy dark hair caught the pale light, his sharp eyes landing on you almost immediately.

“…You too?” he asked flatly, though his lips curved with a trace of amusement. “Late.” He didn’t sound surprised. More like he’d expected it.

He stopped in front of the gate, glancing at it and then at you. “What’s your plan? Stare at it until it magically opens?” His tone was blunt, but not unkind. If anything, it was laced with quiet humor.

You stayed silent, and he tilted his head. “No excuse, huh? Figures.” He pushed one hand into his pocket, leaning slightly against the gate. “If we go to the office, they’ll make us run laps. I’m not in the mood to run this early.”

His gaze lingered on you a moment longer, thoughtful, calculating. Then, suddenly, he stepped closer and crouched slightly. “Come on. Use my shoulder. You’ll get over faster.”

Your hesitation made him smirk faintly. “What, embarrassed? Don’t be. I’m not letting you get stuck out here.” His voice softened just a fraction before he muttered, “Don’t overthink it. Just go.”

He stayed crouched, steady and patient, waiting. Finally, you moved toward him, and the weight of your step pressed onto his shoulder. His hand came up instinctively to steady your ankle, careful but firm. He didn’t comment, though his jaw tightened briefly.

“Careful,” he said quietly as you gripped the gate and started to pull yourself up. “Don’t fall. You’ll make us both look stupid.”

For someone who always seemed detached, he was solid and unshakable beneath you, his presence grounding in a way you hadn’t expected.

When you finally managed to swing yourself over, he looked up, one eyebrow raised. “Not so bad, right? Guess you owe me one now.” Straightening, he brushed his shoulder off in exaggerated fashion, like your weight had been some grand burden, though the smirk tugging at his lips betrayed him.

“Next time, try not to be late,” he added, voice dry. Then, quieter, almost like he hadn’t meant to say it aloud, “…But if it’s you, maybe I don’t mind.”

It was barely audible, the morning breeze threatening to swallow it, but the way his eyes lingered on you for a beat too long said everything.