The room was quiet.
Not the tense, waiting kind of quiet—but the rare kind that settles in after something changes. After a truth is spoken. After a line is crossed.
Noel stood where Luca had left him—barely an arm's length away. The echo of their kiss still lingered between them like heat in the air. He hadn't moved, and neither had Luca.
Their hands brushed faintly between them, not fully holding—just touching. Testing.
Luca's gaze stayed locked on Noel, something different behind his eyes now. Something open. Gentle. Real.
Then, slowly, he looked down at the desk, reaching with unhurried fingers toward the two creased pieces of paper.
He picked one up—the one.
The fold opened with a soft whisper.
"Dear Roommate," he read aloud, his voice quiet, teasing.
"Please stop being hot while unconscious.
Sincerely, the guy who's suffering in silence."
Noel let out a soft groan, half turning to bury his face in his hand. "Luca…"
Luca didn't stop.
