Morning came slowly.
A pale beam of sunlight filtered through the half-closed blinds, stretching across the floor and pooling at the foot of Luca's bed.
The room was still wrapped in a weekend hush — no alarms, no scuffling students in the hall, no rush to be anywhere.
Noel woke to the stillness of a Saturday, the kind that felt borrowed—too quiet, too gentle, and far too temporary.
He turned his head just enough to see Luca still asleep, one arm slung over his face, the blanket half-kicked off, exposing his bare chest and the lazy rise and fall of his chest.
Noel stared longer than he meant to, a flicker of something warm curling in his chest before he forced himself to look away. He rolled over and sighed into his pillow.
He lay there for a while, not quite ready to get up. It was rare, having time like this — slow, undemanding. No lectures, no assignments due that second, no expectations. Just... stillness.
Eventually, he sat up, ran a hand through his hair, and padded over to his desk. He quietly unplugged his laptop and opened it, screen casting a dim glow as it booted up.
A moment later, he reached for the earbuds lying beside it, intending to start working on some notes.
But before he could press play, a groggy voice broke the silence.
"You're already up?" Luca's voice was hoarse, sleep-heavy.
Noel looked over his shoulder. "It's almost nine."
Luca peeked through his fingers. "On a Saturday?"
Noel shrugged. "Habit."
Luca groaned and turned onto his side, facing him now. "You're like... an ancient monk trapped in a college student's body."
"And you," Noel said, typing a password into his laptop, "are the reason I own noise-canceling earbuds."
Luca grinned against his pillow, his voice muffled. "Touché."
Noel glanced at him briefly. His hair was wild, sticking out in all directions, his expression still soft with sleep. Without meaning to, Noel felt that tiny flutter again in his chest — annoying, unpredictable.
"You hungry?" he asked.
Luca cracked one eye open. "Do you have food?"
"I could make something. There's instant ramen, eggs, or... cereal."
"Chef's choice," Luca mumbled. "I'll owe you a lifetime of gratitude."
"You said that last time, and you still left crumbs on the desk."
"That was appreciation—edible evidence."
Noel rolled his eyes, standing up. "I'll make eggs. Stay asleep or help — no in between."
Luca stretched lazily, muscles shifting beneath his skin. "Fine. I'll help... supervise."
"You're impossible."
"And yet, charming."
Noel didn't answer, but he was smiling faintly as he headed for the tiny kitchenette near the corner of their dorm.
Their weekend had begun — unhurried, quiet, with the kind of simplicity that only made the growing tension between them all the more noticeable.
The kitchenette wasn't much — two burners, a shared mini fridge, and exactly three utensils that Noel kept organized like sacred relics. But it was enough.
Noel cracked two eggs into a bowl, whisking with practiced precision. He moved with quiet efficiency, already pulling out toast and setting up a pan when Luca finally dragged himself out of bed.
Still shirtless, of course. Hair unbrushed, eyes barely open, but grinning like he didn't know what modesty meant.
"Can I at least toast the bread?" Luca asked, yawning as he leaned his elbow against the counter.
"You'll burn it."
"I will not. I'm great at pushing buttons."
Noel didn't even look up. "Yeah, I've noticed."
Luca chuckled. "That was good. I walked right into it."
"You ran."
They moved around each other in a familiar rhythm now — clumsy at first, but becoming more seamless each day.
Luca popped the bread into the toaster and leaned against the counter, watching Noel pour the eggs into a sizzling pan.
"So," Luca began, "what's your idea of a perfect Saturday?"
Noel kept his eyes on the pan. "One where no one asks me that question."
Luca smirked. "That boring, huh?"
Noel stirred the eggs gently, silent for a second. "Peace and quiet. Coffee. Maybe a good book. Laundry done. No surprises."
"No surprises?" Luca repeated, pretending to gasp. "You're missing out."
Noel glanced at him, eyebrow raised. "On what?"
Luca stepped closer, voice lowered. "Spontaneity. Adventure. Unexpected company."
"Sounds exhausting."
"But what if it's the kind of surprise that... makes you feel something?"
There was a beat.
Noel's hand paused on the spatula before he looked up. "Why do I feel like this is leading to some weird metaphor about me letting you stay here?"
Luca grinned, unapologetic. "You love it."
"I tolerate it."
"That's step one. Step two is you secretly start looking forward to me talking through your silence."
Noel plated the scrambled eggs and slid the dish toward Luca. "Step three is poisoning your breakfast."
Luca took the plate dramatically. "Ooh, dangerous and domestic. I like it."
They ate by the window — Luca perched on the edge of the desk chair, Noel cross-legged on his bed.
Sunlight caught in Luca's damp hair, and Noel found himself noticing things he shouldn't: the curve of a smile, the way Luca hummed under his breath between bites.
For a moment, there was quiet.
Then Luca spoke again, softer this time. "You know... I never had mornings like this before."
Noel blinked, mid-bite. "Like what?"
"This," Luca gestured vaguely. "Waking up somewhere that feels... I don't know. Safe. Easy."
Noel stared at him, then down at his own plate.
Luca cleared his throat. "Anyway. Don't get all weird on me. I'm just saying your monk energy is growing on me."
Noel allowed a tiny smile to surface. "Good. Because I don't plan on changing it."
"Wouldn't want you to," Luca said quietly.
Their eyes met for just a second too long. Then Noel looked away, finishing the last of his eggs.
Outside, the weekend rolled on — but inside that small dorm, something delicate was beginning to take root. Unspoken. Undeniable.
As Noel stood to clear their breakfast dishes, Luca's phone vibrated against the edge of the desk.
Luca reached for it lazily, but the second he saw the caller ID, something in his expression shifted. He stood up straighter, shoulders subtly tensing.
Noel noticed but didn't say anything.
"Kian," Luca muttered under his breath, then swiped to answer. "Hey."
Noel turned his back, rinsing the plates, though his ears stayed open.
"Yeah… I remember," Luca said, voice lower now, almost cautious. "Lunch today, right?"
A pause. Then Luca glanced sideways, almost like he was checking if Noel was listening.
"No, it's fine. I'll come. Where?"
More silence. A sigh.
"Alright. See you there."
The call ended. Luca didn't move right away. He stared at the phone for a beat too long before setting it down with a soft clack.
The air between them had cooled, like someone had cracked a window they hadn't noticed.
Noel dried the dishes slowly, then finally spoke without turning. "So. You got plans?"
Luca hesitated, then said, "Yeah. Just… catching up with someone."
"Kian?"
Luca blinked. "You heard that?"
"You said his name. Not exactly subtle."
Luca scratched the back of his neck. "Right. Yeah. He just wants to talk."
Noel finally turned to face him, drying cloth in hand. His expression was unreadable. "Old friend?"
Luca nodded. "Something like that."
Something flickered in Noel's eyes, but he didn't push. "Well… don't be late. You know how you lose track of time."
Luca offered a half-smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. I won't.
The air felt heavier than before — not tense, exactly, but something unspoken hung between them like fog on glass. Noel set the dishes down neatly and stepped away from the counter.
"Don't forget your phone this time," he said without looking at Luca.
Luca smiled—wry, tired, distant. "Wouldn't dream of it." But for the first time that morning, he wasn't sure if he meant it.