CHAPTER 134: NOT GOODBYE, JUST GOODNIGHT

The room was dim, the bedside lamp casting a soft glow over the two beds.

Outside, the campus had gone still. Even the usual late-night chatter from the hallway had faded, like the building understood this night was different.

Noel lay on his back, one arm behind his head, eyes tracking the slow, lazy spin of the ceiling fan—like it held answers he wasn’t ready to ask. His suitcase sat zipped by the door, a quiet reminder of the hours slipping by.

Across the room, Luca’s desk lamp still glowed—like he couldn’t bring himself to turn it off. He sat on his bed, knees drawn up, absently flipping through one of Noel’s textbooks.

"Pretty sure you’re not gonna suddenly understand organic chemistry now," Noel mumbled, teasing lightly.

Luca didn’t look up. "I’m just checking if you wrote anything stupid in the margins."

Noel smirked. "You’re the one who drew a frog on page fifty-two."

"That frog has a PhD."

Noel chuckled, then went quiet.

Luca closed the book, but didn’t move. "You okay?"

Noel nodded, but didn’t speak right away. After a long pause, he said, "It just feels weird. Everything’s packed. Feels like I already left."

Luca stared at him across the room. "You haven’t."

Another silence settled—longer this time. The kind that sat between them like a third person.

"I kept thinking I’d be excited," Noel said quietly. "To go home. Be with family. Sleep in my own bed. But now..."

"Now what?"

Noel swallowed. "Now it feels like I’m leaving something I didn’t even know I needed."

Luca rose and crossed the room, hovering by Noel’s bed, shifting his weight—unsure if he was allowed to stay.

"Do you want to be alone?"

Noel shook his head. "No."

That was all it took.

Luca climbed into the bed, lying beside him—not touching, just there. The air shifted.

"Remember that first week?" Luca asked. "You barely spoke to me. I thought you hated me."

"I didn’t hate you," Noel said. "I thought you were loud and annoying."

Luca laughed and nudged him lightly. "Still am."

"Yeah. But now I’d miss it."

A soft hum left Luca’s throat. He rolled onto his side, facing Noel. His voice dropped, gentler now. "You don’t have to say anything, you know."

Noel turned toward him, nose barely a breath away. "I know. But if I don’t say it now..."

"You’ll regret it?"

"Maybe."

But the words came anyway, soft and hesitant.

"You made this place feel like home. I didn’t expect that."

Luca blinked, his throat bobbing slightly. "You didn’t make it easy, you know. You always looked like you were trying to disappear."

"I was," Noel admitted.

"But I saw you."

Noel’s breath hitched.

Luca reached up, brushing a strand of hair from Noel’s eyes. "And I liked what I saw."

The room stilled around them. Just two heartbeats, too close, too loud.

Noel whispered, "Is this okay?"

"Yeah," Luca breathed. "It’s more than okay."

Their lips met—slow, unsure, like testing the shape of something fragile. Not goodbye. Just a moment suspended between staying and leaving.

When they pulled apart, Luca didn’t speak.

He just curled his fingers around Noel’s and held them there, palm to palm, heart to heart.

Noel exhaled, soft and warm.

"Will you stay?" he asked.

"I’m not going anywhere."

And neither of them moved.

Not for a long, long while.

They didn’t speak. Just lay there, fingers still interlaced, like the silence had folded them into something sacred.

The lamp cast a sleepy glow across the sheets, golden and warm.

Outside, the wind moved through the trees, brushing gently against the dorm window like a lullaby. Inside, time seemed to soften at the edges.

Noel let out a quiet breath, the kind that carried more than just air. "I don’t want this night to end."

Luca’s voice was a low murmur, close to his ear. "Then let’s not rush it."

They shifted closer, foreheads nearly touching, legs brushing beneath the blanket pulled halfway up. Noel’s other hand found the fabric of Luca’s sleeve and held on—lightly, but with purpose.

Luca adjusted, pressing his forehead gently against Noel’s. "You’re warm."

"So are you," Noel whispered, eyes fluttering shut.

A pause.

"Don’t hog the blanket though."

Luca huffed. "I literally just gave you most of it."

"You always say that."

"You always make me."

Their quiet laughter mingled in the space between them, sleepy and soft. It faded slowly, like waves retreating from the shore, until only the hush of breathing remained.

Luca’s voice came again, softer this time, sinking into the pillow. "You’ll come back, right?"

Noel blinked slowly, his lashes brushing against Luca’s cheek. "If you’re here... I will."

Luca didn’t answer right away, but his thumb brushed over Noel’s knuckles.

Then, in the smallest voice, "Then I’ll be here."

A gentle stillness settled over the room.

Noel’s breathing grew heavier, more even. His hand never let go.

And Luca—though his eyes stayed open a little longer—watched the way Noel curled closer in sleep.

Watched the way his lips parted slightly, the way his body leaned toward him like it didn’t know how not to.

He pressed a silent kiss to the top of Noel’s hair and whispered what he hadn’t dared say out loud.

"I’m gonna miss you."

Then he closed his eyes too.

Wrapped in tangled sheets and each other, they let the night take them.

Not goodbye. Just... goodnight.

A faint blush of dawn crept through the blinds, painting pale streaks of light across the room.

The air was still, that rare kind of quiet that only morning could bring—before the bustle, before the noise, before the goodbyes.

Luca stirred first.

His eyes blinked open slowly, adjusting to the cool blue of morning.

Noel’s fingers were still curled around his shirt, their legs tangled beneath the blanket that had slipped halfway off the bed.

Noel’s face was peaceful in sleep, lips parted just a little, cheek smushed softly into the pillow.

There was a gentleness to him in this light. Something Luca couldn’t look away from.

He didn’t move. Not yet.

His gaze traced the slope of Noel’s nose, the quiet rise and fall of his chest, the small crease between his brows that stayed even in rest. Luca smiled faintly, brushing a thumb over it.

"Still thinking in your dreams?" he whispered.

Noel didn’t answer, but shifted slightly, nestling closer.

Luca let his hand trail to the side of Noel’s waist, fingers splayed like he was memorizing every inch.

He wanted to stop time. Or stretch it. Or bottle this exact second and never let it go.

But outside, a distant bell chimed the hour. Reality, creeping back in.

Noel’s lashes fluttered.

He stirred, blinked slowly, then lifted his head just enough to see Luca watching him.

"Mornin’," he croaked, voice thick with sleep.

"Hey," Luca whispered, his tone gentle but sad around the edges. "You slept like a log."

"You didn’t."

Luca chuckled quietly. "Didn’t want to waste time blinking."

Noel gave him a sleepy smile, then stretched slightly before settling again, this time on his back, staring up at the ceiling.

For a long moment, neither of them said anything.

The room felt like it was holding its breath.

Then Noel whispered, "We should probably get up soon."

"Yeah."

But neither moved.

Luca rolled onto his back too, their shoulders brushing.

"I hate mornings now," he said after a beat.

"You already did."

Luca smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

They lay there a little longer, not counting minutes, just letting them pass.

The hum of a world beginning outside filtered through the walls—birds, distant voices, a car starting somewhere far away.

Finally, Noel exhaled and sat up, the blanket slipping off his chest.

Luca stayed where he was, eyes following him, like he was trying to capture the moment one last time.

Noel looked back, offering a hand. "Come on. I don’t want to be late."

Luca took it without hesitation.

But neither of them said the words they were both thinking.

Not yet.

The kettle let out a soft whistle.

Steam curled toward the ceiling as Luca poured hot water into two mugs.

The scent of coffee floated through the dorm room, mixing with the quiet clinking of spoons and the occasional creak of the floorboards beneath their feet.

Noel stood by the window, folding the last of his shirts into the open suitcase on the chair.

His movements were slow, precise, like drawing out time in the way he folded each one. Neat piles, no wrinkles. He smoothed the edges with his palms.

"You’re really leaving it spotless," Luca said, carrying the mugs over.

Noel smiled faintly. "You wouldn’t survive finding a sock in your cereal."

Luca grinned, placing one mug beside the suitcase. "True. And thank you... for not cursing me in your will."

They shared a quiet laugh, but it didn’t stretch far.

Luca leaned against the desk, watching as Noel zipped the suitcase shut.

It clicked closed with a finality that settled heavy in the room.

Noel didn’t look at him right away.

He turned instead, reached for the coffee, then held it in both hands like it was something to ground him.

"This feels weird," he muttered.

Luca nodded, eyes lowered. "Yeah. Like... we blinked and it’s over."

Noel let out a breath, warm against the mug rim. "Was it always moving this fast or did we just not notice?"

"Maybe we were too busy pretending time wouldn’t run out."

A silence stretched.

Then Noel moved toward the small table and sat, sipping slowly, gaze flicking out the window. "You’re gonna forget to do laundry without me."

"I was already forgetting with you," Luca murmured.

Noel looked over at him, lips twitching at the corners.

Luca joined him, their mugs between them, elbows occasionally bumping.

He noticed Noel’s fingers tapping the ceramic—soft, rhythmic. A nervous habit.

"You nervous?" Luca asked quietly.

Noel paused. "Not really."

Luca tilted his head.

"Okay... maybe a little."

"You’ll be fine." Luca gave a soft nudge with his foot under the table. "You’re Noel. You don’t break."

Noel’s eyes flicked up. "You say that like it’s a good thing."

"It is. Especially when the one watching you leave feels like he might."

The words slipped out before Luca could stop them. Honest. Bare.

Noel blinked. Then he set the mug down slowly and leaned forward, resting his arms on the table.

"Luca..."

"You don’t have to say anything," Luca said quickly, looking down. "I just... I don’t want you to go thinking I didn’t care."

Noel stared at him, eyes softening. "I never thought that."

Another beat passed.

Then Noel stood, breaking the moment gently. He grabbed his toothbrush, his charger, the tiny things that always seemed to slip through last-minute packing.

Luca followed him with his eyes, his chest heavy.

The dorm felt different now—emptier, like the echo had already arrived before the goodbye.

"Got everything?" Luca asked, forcing his voice steady.

Noel looked around once more. "Yeah... I think so."

Luca moved to the door, grabbing the keys and Noel’s hoodie from the hook. "You’ll need this."

Noel took it, their fingers brushing briefly. He smiled, the kind that didn’t reach his eyes.

"I’m gonna miss this place," he whispered.

Luca’s voice dropped. "Me too."

But what he meant was: (I’m going to miss you.)

They lingered by the door.

The suitcase was packed. The mugs were empty. Time, relentless as ever, was tapping on the glass of the window like rain that never came.

Luca stood barefoot on the cold floor, Noel’s hoodie swallowing his frame.

The sleeves fell past his wrists, and he didn’t bother to roll them up. It smelled like clean linen and the ghost of Noel’s cologne. Faint but there.

Across from him, Noel was pulling the hem of Luca’s oversized T-shirt down beneath the hem of his jacket. It was too big. It always had been. But he wore it now like armor—like something worth carrying into a place that wouldn’t have Luca in it.

Neither of them moved for a while.

Then Luca stepped closer, gaze low, voice soft. "Is this the part where I act like I’m totally fine?"

Noel tilted his head. "You’re not?"

Luca gave a crooked smile. "Didn’t rehearse that version."

A beat.

Then he reached up and adjusted the strap of Noel’s bag on his shoulder. Just an excuse to touch him. His fingers brushed the collar of the hoodie he once wore, now on Noel’s shoulders, and lingered.

"I like this on you," Luca whispered.

"I like this on you too," Noel replied, thumb sliding gently under Luca’s sleeve. "You’ll probably stretch it."

"Too late."

Another silence passed between them—still, quiet, electric.

Noel’s eyes flicked up. "Do we say something? Or just... go?"

Luca’s throat moved. "If I say too much, I might not let you leave."

Noel exhaled, shaky. "Then don’t say too much."

But Luca leaned in anyway, forehead brushing Noel’s. He breathed him in like he was afraid of forgetting the scent.

"I’m not gonna forget this," he whispered.

Then, slowly, he kissed him.

It wasn’t urgent. It wasn’t sad. It was the kind of kiss that said everything without needing translation—thank you, I love you, don’t go, but I understand why you have to.

His hand came up to cradle the back of Noel’s neck, thumb tracing the line of skin just under the hoodie’s edge.

Noel melted into it, eyes fluttering shut, fingers tightening around Luca’s shirt. It felt like a pause in time, like even the world was willing to stop—for just a second—for them.

When they finally broke apart, neither spoke.

Luca stepped back first, reluctantly. He reached for the suitcase handle. "Ready?"

Noel nodded. His voice was hoarse. "Yeah... Let’s go."

And so they did.

They stepped out into the soft morning haze. The world outside was hushed, dipped in a pale gold light that made everything feel suspended. Streets still quiet. Air still cool. Footsteps echoing gently in tandem.

They didn’t talk much on the way.

Every so often, their shoulders brushed. Neol kept his hand in the pockets of the hoodie.

Luca rolled the suitcase beside him, the wheels whispering against the pavement.

Each step forward was another second closer to goodbye.

But they walked together.

Side by side.

Like always.