The air outside had shifted—cooler now, more forgiving. Luca shoved his hands into his pockets as he walked, head down, replaying everything Kian said… and everything he didn't.
The ache wasn't sharp. Just dull and lingering, like a memory you don't know how to let go of.
When he stepped into the dorm, the lights were dim. The quiet was the kind that didn't feel empty—it felt lived in. Safe. Familiar.
"Noel?" he called out gently, dropping his keys onto the desk.
No answer.
He glanced around, noticed Noel's shoes by the bed, his phone still on the nightstand.
The bathroom door was closed. From behind it came the soft hiss of running water, and the faintest sound of a hum—off-key, low, and entirely unaware of being overheard.
Luca smiled to himself.
He sat down on the edge of his bed, sighing as he leaned back, staring at the ceiling.
For a moment, he let himself just be still.
No noise.
No pressure.
No pretending.
