CHAPTER 150: ALL I NEEDED WAS YOU

The car door shut with a low thud.

Luca straightened his jacket, the tailored sleeves feeling too stiff against his wrists.

The evening air smelled faintly of jasmine and concrete—cleaner than usual, but still artificial in a way that didn’t quite settle.

His father was already halfway up the driveway, speaking in a low voice to someone on his earpiece.

Mr. Jeff lingered back a little, walking in stride with Luca.

"That wasn’t so bad," Jeff said, offering a small smile.

Luca tugged at the collar. "You didn’t have to wear a tie all night."

"No, but I also didn’t look like I wanted to crawl out of my skin," Jeff teased.

Luca rolled his eyes, but his lips twitched with the hint of a smirk. "Thanks for not leaving me to drown in that crowd."

"You held your own," Jeff said, tone softening. "Even with Elise."

Luca glanced away.

They stepped into the house, the marble floors gleaming under the entryway lights.

Silence greeted them. His father had already disappeared down the hallway.

Jeff clapped him gently on the back. "Get some rest. You earned it."

Luca nodded. "Night, uncle Jeff."

"Night, kid."

Jeff slipped out the door, leaving Luca in the vast stillness of the house.

The silence stretched.

Then, with a slow sigh, Luca made his way upstairs—each step echoing softly—toward his room.

The door clicked shut behind him with a soft finality.

Luca exhaled and leaned his back against it for a second, staring at the stillness of his room.

The suit jacket slid from his shoulders onto the bed, followed by the tie—unraveled with one lazy tug.

His fingers moved slower now, undoing each button like he was peeling away the weight of the evening.

He changed into a loose t-shirt and sweats, the fabric soft and familiar.

Barefoot, he padded across the room and sat at the edge of the bed, reaching for his phone.

A notification blinked at the top—1 message from Noel.

"Back home. Library was quiet, but nice. Hope the gala didn’t swallow you whole."

Luca stared at the message a little longer than he needed to.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, but it faded quickly.

He didn’t text back.

Instead, he pressed the call button.

The line barely rang once.

"Hey."

Noel’s voice was low, like he hadn’t expected the call but had been hoping for it anyway.

Luca leaned back against the headboard, his voice soft. "Hey."

There was a quiet pause, filled only with the hum of the city outside his window and the distant ticking of the clock on the wall.

"You home?" Noel asked gently.

"Yeah. Just got in."

"Long night?"

"Long enough," Luca murmured. "You?"

"Pretty normal," Noel said. "Dinner with my parents. Closed the library with Dad."

Luca nodded, even though Noel couldn’t see him. "That sounds... peaceful."

"It was. But I was thinking about you."

Luca’s breath hitched slightly. He shifted the phone closer, like it would make the distance feel smaller.

"I’m sorry I didn’t reply earlier," he said.

Noel’s voice softened. "You don’t have to apologize."

"I just..." Luca paused, fingers brushing the edge of the blanket. "I guess I needed to hear your voice."

Another pause. Then Noel said, "Me too."

Luca shut his eyes for a moment, letting the quiet settle around them.

"I missed you today," he admitted. "At the gala... everything felt fake. Except when I thought about you."

There was a sound—maybe Noel shifting under his covers, maybe just a soft breath—but he didn’t speak right away.

Then came a whisper. "I wish I was there."

"Me too," Luca whispered back.

For a few seconds, neither of them said anything. Just breathing. Just being.

Then Luca’s voice broke the quiet. "Stay on the line a bit?"

"Of course," Noel said gently.

Luca pulled the blanket up, phone still pressed to his ear. "Even if we don’t talk. Just stay."

"I’m not going anywhere."

Luca lay back against the pillows, one arm folded behind his head, the phone still pressed to his ear.

Noel’s voice was soft, steady. "So... how many people complimented your suit tonight?"

Luca chuckled under his breath. "Too many. I think one woman offered to marry me just because of the lapel."

"Was she at least seventy?"

"Eighty, maybe. But she had more confidence than half the room combined."

Noel laughed—genuine and warm.

Luca smiled just hearing it.

"I wish I could’ve seen you in that suit," Noel said.

There was a pause.

"I’ll wear it again. Just for you," Luca replied, a little quieter this time. "No galas. No cameras. Just us."

Noel didn’t speak right away. When he did, his voice was softer. "I’d like that."

They both let the silence stretch a little. But it wasn’t awkward—it was the kind of silence that holds meaning, where nothing needed to be said right away.

"You know... it’s still strange. Back then you felt untouchable—like this version of you I’d never reach. And now it’s just... you. Calling me after a long day. Like it’s the most normal thing."

Luca’s throat tightened, but not from discomfort. "It doesn’t feel weird to me anymore," he said quietly. "It just feels... right."

Noel exhaled, like he’d been holding something in. "I’m glad you called."

"I always want to. Even when I don’t know what to say."

"You don’t have to know," Noel murmured. "You just have to be you."

Luca stared at the ceiling, a quiet smile forming. "You make that sound easier than it is."

"Well, that’s what I’m here for," Noel said lightly. "To remind you you’re allowed to be real. Even in a suit."

Luca laughed again, this time softer. "God, I needed this."

"Me too."

They fell into an easy rhythm, sharing small stories of their day, teasing lightly, laughing quietly. The night stretched, gentle and calm.

A few more beats of quiet.

Then Noel added, "Get some rest, okay?"

Luca didn’t want to hang up. But he knew the night had to end sometime. "You too."

"Text me tomorrow?"

"You won’t even make it to breakfast before I do," Luca said, his voice laced with a fondness he didn’t bother to hide.

"Good."

There was one last pause, not quite ready to end.

"Goodnight, Luca."

"Goodnight, Noel."

The line went quiet, ending with a soft beep.

Luca kept the phone in his hand for a moment longer, thumb brushing the screen as though unwilling to let go.

Then, gently, he set it aside on the nightstand.

No music played. No videos ran in the background.

Just silence—yet it wasn’t the hollow kind he had grown used to.

It carried weight now, warmth, as if Noel’s voice still lingered in the air.

For the first time in a long while, Luca didn’t dread the quiet. He let it stay.

On the other side, Noel lowered his phone slowly.

The darkened screen reflected his face back at him, but for a fleeting moment, he swore he could still hear Luca’s tone, soft and careful, echoing in the room.

He didn’t send another message.

His thumb hovered, then tapped lightly on Luca’s name, the familiar letters lighting up again.

As though holding that glow close was enough.

Placing the phone beside him, Noel exhaled—steady, unhurried.

The corners of his lips still held the smile Luca had put there.

The room was dim, shadows draped across the walls.

From the open window, the night drifted in—cool, touched with the faint scent of jasmine from the garden below.

Leaves stirred against the glass with a hush, like a lullaby meant for him alone.

Noel rose, stretching his arms overhead until his shoulders eased.

His bare feet moved quietly across the floorboards as he entered the bathroom.

The light snapped on, flooding the small space in a soft glow.

He brushed his teeth with slow, thoughtful motions, catching his reflection in the mirror.

His own smile startled him—unpracticed, lingering, genuine.

A spot of toothpaste at the edge of his mouth made him chuckle under his breath.

He wiped it away, still smiling.

Cool water followed, splashed across his face once, then twice.

The shock of it woke something inside him—an alertness, a grounding calm.

With the towel pressed to his cheeks, he lingered, eyes half-closed as if savoring the quiet.

Back in his room, he didn’t crawl into bed right away.

Instead, he drifted to the window. Pushing it open a fraction more, he let the night air spill in, brushing against his skin.

His arms folded loosely across his chest as he leaned on the sill.

The sky above was muted, the stars faint tonight.

But he wasn’t searching for constellations.

His gaze stretched toward the horizon, thoughtful, at ease.

"He sounded tired... but better," he murmured to no one but the night.

The words hung there for a moment before dissolving into the air.

Noel’s lips curved again, softer this time—a smile not meant for anyone to see, but one that stayed, warm and steady.

At last, he shut the window, turned off the lamp, and slipped beneath the covers.

The blanket came up to his chin, cocooning him in stillness.

His hand reached for his phone once more, thumb brushing across the screen.

He didn’t type a word. Didn’t call back.

He only opened Luca’s contact, let the name glow for a moment, then set the phone back down, screen-side up beside him.

Sleep found him easily that night, his breathing even, his expression calm—peaceful in a way it hadn’t been for a long time.