The night deepened.
Luca found himself still at Ezra's side, bodies brushing as the crowd surged around them.
They didn't dance at first—just swayed slightly, drinks in hand, voices low between the bass drops.
Then Ezra leaned in. "Wanna move?"
Luca smiled. "Thought you'd never ask."
They moved to the center, letting the music swallow them.
Ezra didn't press, just stayed close—hands brief on Luca's waist, breath brushing his ear as they moved in rhythm. It was seamless, effortless.
Like they'd done this before in another life.
Luca turned fully. Ezra's hand stayed at his lower back—not pulling, not pressing—just a quiet anchor.
"You good?" Ezra asked, voice low.
Luca nodded. "You?"
"Very."
The look they exchanged held weight. Not rushed. Not loud. Just real.
Minutes later, they stepped out of the club together, streetlamps flickering overhead.
Ezra ran a hand through his hair. "You wanna head back to mine?"
Luca didn't hesitate. "Yeah."
They walked in sync, quiet laughter between them. No heavy talk. Just a thread pulling them closer.
Ezra's apartment.
Door clicked shut behind them. The space was simple—warm light, scattered records, a soft couch.
"You want water?" Ezra asked.
Luca shook his head, stepping in. "I'm fine."
Ezra turned to say something—but Luca was already there, closing the space.
It wasn't rushed. Just... magnetic.
Their lips met.
Not rushed—just... magnetic. Ezra's hand cradled Luca's jaw, thumb brushing the corner of his mouth like he was trying to remember the shape of it.
Luca stepped forward, tugging him closer by the shirt.
They didn't speak. They didn't need to. Just breath and skin, city lights flickering past the curtains.
Ezra backed him toward the couch, lips never leaving, touch steady. Luca let himself fall into it, the safety of someone who didn't try too hard. It was all instinct.
Shirts peeled away. Fingers grazed skin. Eyes locked between kisses.
Ezra paused just once, brushing hair from Luca's face. "You sure?"
Luca nodded, breathless. "Yeah. I want this."
And that was enough.
They sank into the couch—into the moment. Every movement unspoken, patient, shared.
No noise but their own. No weight but what they allowed. It wasn't about forgetting anyone or proving anything.
It was just two people choosing to stay in a night that felt right.
Back In The Dorm Room — Late Night
The room was a mess. Not just Luca's side anymore.
Noel had pushed some of his books aside, his notes scattered across the desk. A half-finished drink sat beside his laptop, forgotten.
Clothes from earlier were tossed over the back of his chair, and his usually neat bedspread had a deep wrinkle from where he'd been sitting for too long.
He glanced around.
Trash on the floor. Crumbs on the table. Luca's jacket slumped over his own chair.
Noel's eye twitched.
He pushed his chair back with a dull scrape, stood, then walked over to Luca's side.
Empty chip bag. Game controller on the floor. Blanket half-hanging off the bed towel still wet.
Noel stared at it all for a second, breathing slow through his nose.
The silence wasn't peaceful. It scratched at the edges of his thoughts, loud in the way only an absence could be.
He flipped a page. Didn't read it.
"He better not come back acting like this is fine," he muttered, staring at the clutter.
But really, it wasn't about the mess. It was the being forgotten part.
He paced once, then sat back down, opened his phone and checked the time: 12:46 AM.
No texts.
Not a word from Luca.
He tossed the phone back on the bed, then leaned on the desk, elbows dug into the wood.
The room felt hot.
Annoyance built slowly in his chest.
He didn't care that Luca went out. Really.
But this?
This whole mess?
It felt disrespectful.
"Seriously, he could've at least cleaned before running off with that Kian guy," Noel muttered, flipping a page in his textbook without reading it.
Still no sign of the door unlocking.
Noel kept studying. Or pretending to.
The ticking wall clock sounded louder than usual.
Noel hovered over his textbook, highlighter idle. Ten minutes, and not a single mark.
He sighed, pulled his focus back, and underlined a line of text. Then another. But the tension in his jaw didn't loosen.
The room still smelled like leftover snacks.
Noel's gaze flicked to the clock again.
01:14 AM.
He hadn't heard the door open, no sound of Luca.
The crumpled blanket, half-empty soda can, gaming headset tangled in its own cord—all still untouched.
Noel exhaled sharply through his nose and looked back down.
His phone buzzed once he quickly check it—Alex.
Alex "Still up?"
"Noel Yeah what's up?."
Alex send me the PDF.
Noel Sent....."
Noel put the phone down without replying further.
He told himself he wasn't angry. Just tired. Just over it. But the knot in his jaw said otherwise.
He just hated messes. And people who said nothing when they left, as if no one else shared the space.
He turned to Luca's desk and muttered to himself, "Can't even clean your side before disappearing."
Another glance at the door.
Still nothing.
He pulled his chair in, reopened the chapter—and under the dull glow of his desk lamp, tried to study like the room wasn't still holding its breath.
At least, he tried.