The morning light slid in through the half-open blinds, slanting across the dorm room in soft gold.
It touched everything — the corner of Luca's desk, the scattered hoodie on the back of his chair, the curve of Noel's shoulder as he moved quietly around the room.
Golden light slipped through the blinds, warming the cluttered dorm with a quiet promise of the day ahead—spilling over scattered hoodies, a cracked phone screen, and the rising steam of Noel's untouched coffee.
Luca stirred under his blanket, eyes still heavy with sleep, hair a complete mess.
He squinted toward the shifting figure near the door.
Noel.
Fully dressed. Backpack slung over one shoulder. He stood by the door, head bowed slightly as he clipped on his watch—movements quiet, like he was trying not to wake a sleeping world.
"You didn't wake me up," Luca mumbled, voice scratchy with sleep.
Noel turned, surprised. "You don't have class till evening, remember?"
