Noel returned a few minutes later with two bottles of water. Luca was still lying on the bed, sprawled like a starfish, the panic clearly drained from his body.
"You alive?" Noel asked, tossing one bottle gently onto the bed.
Luca groaned and reached for it. "Barely. That was emotionally traumatic."
"You have no idea what real trauma is if that's your standard," Noel said, settling at his desk.
Luca sat up slowly, unscrewing the cap. "You know, you didn't have to remind me. Could've let me crash and burn."
"I considered it," Noel replied, sipping from his bottle. "But I also didn't want to deal with your whining for the next week."
Luca smirked. "Admit it—you care."
Noel gave him a sidelong glance. "I care about peace and quiet."
Luca laughed softly and took a long sip of water. The silence stretched a little after that, not awkward but thoughtful.
"Hey," Luca said eventually, his voice quieter, "thanks. For real."
Noel didn't look at him right away. He nodded, almost too subtly. "Don't mention it."
"I mean it." Luca shifted, legs swinging off the bed, elbows resting on his knees. "I know I joke a lot, but I notice things."
Noel raised a brow. "Like what?"
Luca tilted his head slightly. "You remind me about stuff. You check in. You don't let me crash—even when I probably deserve it."
Noel's throat felt a little tight. He cleared it, trying to keep his tone level. "Someone has to keep you from falling apart."
Luca's smile was slow, warm, like something melting between them. "Guess I'm lucky it's you."
Noel looked at him then—really looked. And something in his chest stuttered.
He stood up, feigning nonchalance. "I'm gonna take a shower."
Luca leaned back again, grinning lazily. "Don't slip and die. You owe me peace and quiet, remember?"
Noel shook his head, the faintest smile on his lips as he grabbed his towel.
Behind him, Luca's eyes lingered a moment longer than necessary.
A few minutes later, Noel stepped out of the bathroom, towel slung over his neck, hair damp and clinging to his forehead.
He froze mid-step when he saw Luca by the door, dressed in black jeans, a crisp shirt half-unbuttoned, and that leather jacket Noel had secretly decided he hated—because it looked too damn good on him.
Luca's hand was on the doorknob, phone in the other, screen still lit with the party invite.
"You're going out?" Noel asked, drying his hair with the towel.
Luca glanced at him, phone still in his hand. "Yeah. Ryan's throwing something. Just a quick stop."
Noel raised a brow, not hiding his skepticism. "You said that last time."
Luca smirked, slipping his rings on. "Last time I didn't mean it. This time I might."
Noel turned away, heading toward his bed. "Right. Hope it's worth the hangover."
"You sound like someone's dad," Luca teased, checking himself in the mirror.
"I sound like someone who helped you finish your assignment last night," Noel muttered.
Luca turned at that, giving a quick, cocky smile. "Exactly why I deserve a little celebration. Don't worry, I won't party too hard."
Noel didn't say anything. Just moved past him toward his bed. But Luca caught the smallest shift in his shoulders, the way he avoided his eyes.
"You want me to stay?" Luca asked suddenly, voice quieter.
Noel didn't answer immediately. He sat on the edge of the bed, facing away, fingers threading into his damp hair.
"It's your night," he said, finally. "Do what you want."
Noel turn and just grabbed a shirt from the drawer and started pulling it on.
Luca lingered a moment, watching him. "You sure you don't want to come with me?"
Noel paused slightly, but kept his back to him. "Not my scene."
"Fair," Luca said, already reaching for the door handle. "Don't wait up."
Noel just hummed.eyes fixed on the floor.
Luca hesitated a beat longer—then stepped out, the door clicking shut behind him like punctuation.
The thump of distant bass already buzzing from his phone's notifications.
As the door clicked shut, Noel stood still for a moment in the quiet room, staring at nothing.
Then he muttered under his breath, "Idiot."
And he wasn't sure if he meant Luca—or himself.
He dropped onto his bed, arms spread wide as he stared up at the ceiling.
The faint sound of music echoed somewhere outside the dorm building, muffled by distance. Luca was gone. Again.
He turned his head to the side, eyes settling on Luca's empty bed—sheets messy, jacket thrown over the back of the chair, one sneaker under the desk and the other missing entirely.
Typical.
Noel sighed, rolling to his side. He grabbed his phone from the nightstand, checked it. Nothing. Not that he was expecting a message—but still, a part of him waited.
He tossed the phone aside and sat up, pulling his laptop closer. Maybe he could review something. Get ahead. Focus.
Ten minutes passed.
He wasn't focused.
The cursor blinked on the screen. Words blurred together. His mind kept drifting back—Luca's smirk, the way his chain glinted under the light, the scent of his cologne, the laugh he gave before walking out.
Noel leaned back in his chair and rubbed his face with both hands.
"You're ridiculous," he muttered to himself.
Then he stood, walked over to the window, and pulled the curtain aside. He couldn't see the party, of course—but he imagined it. Loud. Bright. Crowded. People pressing close, laughing, dancing, drinking without a care.
And Luca somewhere in the middle of it. Smiling. Moving through it like it was where he belonged.
Noel let the curtain fall back into place and returned to his bed.
He laid down again, eyes wide open in the dark.
Still waiting for something.
The bass pulsed through the floor, vibrating up Luca's legs as he stood in the center of the packed club. Strobe lights cut through the haze—red, blue, purple—blinking across sweaty bodies pressed too close to care.
Luca tipped his head back, the drink in his hand already half-forgotten, eyes half-lidded as the music swallowed him whole.
He felt good—loose, free, surrounded by noise that drowned out thought.
Someone grabbed his hand. He didn't see who first, just smiled, letting the pull drag him deeper into the crowd. Bodies brushed against him, someone's arm wrapped briefly around his waist, laughter burst somewhere near his ear.
Luca laughed too.
It wasn't real joy. Not exactly. But it was familiar. Comfortable.
"Still the life of the party," a guy shouted over the music, throwing an arm around Luca's shoulder. It was someone he vaguely recognized—maybe hooked up with once, maybe not. Didn't matter.
"Always," Luca answered, flashing a grin and knocking back the rest of his drink. His throat burned, but he didn't care. He tossed the empty cup somewhere behind him and grabbed another from a tray as it passed.
Shots followed. More lights. More bodies.
And somewhere in the middle of it all, as the beat dropped again, Luca slowed. Just for a second. A second where everything blurred—faces, sounds, colors—and his mind flashed elsewhere.
To the quiet hum of a laptop. To the way Noel's breath hitched when startled. To the moment he almost fed him water without thinking, the way Noel had looked at him after.
He blinked.
Then someone pulled him back into the dance, hands sliding against his back. He moved with them, forcing the thought away.
Tonight wasn't for thinking. Tonight was for forgetting.
The music pulsed in his veins like a second heartbeat.
Luca leaned back against the counter, drink in hand, sweat still clinging to his skin from the heat of the dance floor.
"Hey," came a voice beside him—light, flirty.
He turned his head lazily. A girl stood close, too close. Short skirt, glossy lips, and eyes that made it clear she wasn't here for small talk.
"You were killing it out there," she said, trailing her fingers lightly along his forearm.
He gave a half-smile. "Thanks."
"I've seen you here before," she continued, her tone low. "Always alone. You ever leave alone?"
Luca didn't answer.
She stepped closer, her body brushing his. "You're hot," she slurred, placing her hand on his chest.
"I like your energy," she murmured. "Wanna do something about it?"
Luca chuckled, raising an eyebrow. "You're drunk."
"Not too drunk," she whispered, pressing closer. Her fingers curled around his wrist, tugging gently. "Come on…"
He let her pull him. It wasn't unusual. Habit had dulled the lines between wanting and escaping.
They stumbled down the narrow hallway past the bathroom signs, her giggles echoing off the walls.
She pushed him against the cool tile, reaching for his collar, her lips brushing his jaw.
"You smell good," she muttered.
Luca didn't respond, letting her hands wander. But just as she pressed against him, her body suddenly stiffened.
"Wait… I—I think I…"
Before he could react, she lurched forward—and vomited all over his shirt.
"Sh*t," Luca muttered, jerking back in disgust.
She slumped against the wall, wiping her mouth, eyes unfocused. "S-sorry… I think… I drank too much…"
Luca stared down at himself, shirt soaked and stained, the smell already crawling up his nose. He closed his eyes for a second, then sighed hard through his nose.
"Great," he mumbled, pulling the ruined fabric away from his skin.
He looked at her once—half-slumped, mumbling apologies—then turned around without a word and headed straight for the exit.
The music no longer masked the emptiness.
All he wanted now was to disappear—quiet, unseen, undone.