As Noel stepped out of the library, sunlight flared against his lenses, and he instinctively squinted toward the open path ahead.
Students flowed like a lazy river across the quad, voices mingling with the distant rustle of tree leaves.
He adjusted the strap of his bag, gaze drifting absently—until it landed on two familiar figures across the lawn.
There was Luca. Laughing.
And next to him, Kian. A guy with sharp features and a confident slouch, his arm casually slung across Luca's shoulders like it belonged there.
Noel stopped in his tracks, his breath catching for a split second.
He blinked hard, jaw clenching as he told himself it didn't matter.
Kian said something—Noel couldn't hear it—but Luca tilted his head back, lips parting in a grin that came too easily, too comfortably.
Kian hand lingered at Luca's nape, thumb brushing just beneath the curl of hair at the base of his skull.
Noel's fingers tightened around his bag strap.
He wasn't sure what stung more—how familiar it looked, or the way Luca didn't shrug him off. Didn't even seem to think twice about it.
He told himself it didn't matter. Told himself it was none of his business.
That Luca could laugh and walk and let whoever-the-hell run their fingers through his hair if he wanted.
But something in his chest shifted. A dull, unexpected twist.
He stood there a moment longer, letting the distance hold him still—watching until the two figures disappeared around the corner, swallowed by the crowd.
Then, wordlessly, Noel turned and walked in the opposite direction, jaw tight, steps steady, even if something inside him wasn't.
"Noel!"
The voice cut through the noise, light and familiar.
He turned toward it, blinking as Alex jogged over with a wide grin, Lina trailing just behind, sipping something iced through a straw.
"There you are," Alex said, bumping his shoulder as he fell into step beside him. "We thought you got eaten by the library."
"Or fell asleep in a stack of books again," Lina added, her teasing smile softening the tension in Noel's face.
He tried to force a small smile, adjusting his bag higher. "No, just—took the long way."
Alex glanced at him, sharp enough to catch the dip in Noel's voice but not nosy enough to press. "Well, we're getting noodles," he said. "Lina's starving, and I've been promised dumplings or I'll throw a fit."
"I'm not that dramatic," Lina muttered, though she was already leading the way toward the food stall near the student center.
Noel followed, grateful for the change of pace. Grateful they didn't ask why he'd suddenly stopped or what he'd seen.
Because the words never came. Not to explain the pinch in his chest or the quiet question that wouldn't stop humming beneath his thoughts.
The scent of broth and sizzling oil greeted them as they reached the stall.
Lina stepped up first, eyes scanning the laminated menu with practiced focus.
"I'm getting the spicy beef noodles," she announced. "I need something to wake me up."
"You always say that, and then complain your mouth's on fire halfway through," Alex said, folding his arms.
"Pain is temporary. Flavor is eternal."
Alex snorted. "You sound like a motivational poster for masochistic foodies."
Noel stepped forward next, glancing at the options. "I'll just get the sesame noodle bowl."
"Classic," Alex nodded approvingly. "See, Noel has good taste. Simple, reliable—"
"And boring," Lina cut in, passing her card to the vendor. "Come on, live a little."
"I live plenty. Just not with scorched taste buds," Noel replied, handing over his own payment.
Alex leaned on the counter. "You two bicker like you've been married ten years."
"We'd kill each other before we made it past a lease," Lina shot back, pulling her hair into a messy bun.
Noel laughed softly. "That might be true."
But even as he smiled, his mind flicked back—uninvited—to the image of Kian's hand resting too easily on Luca's shoulder.
Their food arrived in steaming bowls, and they took a seat at one of the shaded picnic tables nearby.
The breeze was light, and the campus buzzed around them—students weaving between classes, laughter drifting from a nearby bench, the rustle of trees overhead.
Lina blew on her noodles. "We have a quiz in econ tomorrow, by the way."
"What?" Alex nearly dropped his chopsticks. "Since when?"
"Since always. It's on the syllabus."
Alex groaned. "Why do syllabi exist if I never read them?"
"To torment you," Noel offered, twirling his noodles.
"To keep you from failing," Lina added at the same time.
They all laughed, the moment light, easy—just three students eating too fast, with too much to do and not enough time to breathe.
But for now, the sun was warm, the food comforting, and the company good.
The three of them lingered a little longer after the bowls were nearly empty—chopsticks tapping, idle bites taken out of habit more than hunger.
Alex slouched in his seat, using the last bit of broth to swirl around the sesame seeds. "You know, for something simple, this hit the spot."
"Told you," Noel said, finishing the last sip of his own.
Lina dabbed her mouth with a napkin. "I feel human again. Barely. But it counts."
"Still think the spice was worth it?" Alex teased.
She smirked, eyes watery. "Ask my future self when I'm crying in the library later."
They all stood up, clearing their trays and tossing their napkins in the bin.
The afternoon sun had dipped slightly, casting long shadows across the pavement.
"Library or break?" Lina asked as they stepped out onto the path.
"Break," Alex said immediately, stretching his arms. "If I see one more spreadsheet today, I'll scream."
Noel gave a small smile. "Let's take the long way back, then."
They started walking, shoulders brushing now and then, their footsteps falling into rhythm without effort.
Around them, the campus pulsed with quiet energy—life humming forward, unaware of anything except the next assignment, the next moment, the next step.
"Should we crash the debate club's picnic?" Alex joked.
"Only if you want a three-hour argument about sandwich ethics," Lina replied dryly.
Noel chuckled, letting their voices fill the spaces between the noise of passing bikes and shouts from the sports field.
It was easy. Uncomplicated.
And that, for now, was enough.