Luca had just slung his bag over one shoulder when a familiar voice cut through the shuffle of the crowd.
"Hey, you hungry?"
He turned to see Kian slipping through a pair of exiting students, relaxed as ever, a lazy smile on his face.
Luca tilted his head. "When am I not?"
Kian chuckled. "Come on. Let's grab something before your brain short-circuits over that assignment."
"Please. My brain short-circuited two slides ago," Luca said, falling into step beside him as they made their way toward the exit. "What are you craving?"
"Anything that doesn't smell like campus food," Kian replied. "There's a cart near the main gate. Sells those fried dumplings you like."
Luca's eyes lit up. "Now you're speaking my language."
The hallway buzzed with students, but the two weaved through easily, Kian occasionally bumping shoulders with Luca in a silent rhythm only good friends had.
As they pushed open the glass doors and stepped into the afternoon sun, the campus noise faded just enough for a moment of quiet between them.
"You think the assignment's gonna kill us?" Luca asked, more playful than serious.
Kian smirked. "Nah. But if it does, at least we'll die full."
Luca laughed, the weight of the lecture already lightening as the scent of food drifted in the breeze ahead.
The walk toward the food cart was easy, their pace unhurried as students passed them in twos and threes, lost in their own chatter.
The scent of fried dough and sizzling oil reached them before the cart itself came into view.
Luca's stomach gave an impatient growl. "Smells like salvation on a paper tray."
Kian grinned. "Told you. Best on-campus secret."
They reached the cart, a small metal stand with a striped red canopy, manned by an older woman with nimble hands and a warm smile.
Without needing to ask, she handed over two brown paper trays piled with golden dumplings, glistening slightly from the heat.
"Paying," Kian said before Luca could reach for his pocket.
"Hey—"
"You can get the next one," Kian cut in, leading them toward the edge of the courtyard where a low concrete wall served as makeshift seating.
Luca settled beside him, tray balanced on his knees. "These better be life-changing."
Kian popped one into his mouth and nodded with his mouth full. "Every time."
Luca tried one and let out a low sound of approval. "Okay, I forgive everything."
"You've been quiet today," Kian said, flicking another dumpling with his toothpick before popping it into his mouth.
Luca shrugged, chewing slower. "Just... tired, I guess."
Kian glanced at him sideways, unconvinced. "You? Tired? You've got more energy than half the people on campus combined."
Luca rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well, maybe I'm evolving."
Kian smirked. "Into what? A functioning adult?"
Luca made a face. "Gross."
For a while, they ate in silence, letting the food and the breeze do the talking.
Around them, campus life moved like a current—students crisscrossing paths, conversations rising and falling, the occasional laughter carrying in the breeze.
Kian glanced sideways, his chopsticks tapping lightly against his tray. "Still finding it hard to settle into dorm life?"
Luca shrugged, chewing on a dumpling before answering. "It's not hell. Just takes getting used to."
Kian gave a low hum, his lips tugging into a teasing smirk. "You always were picky about your space. Even that night at mine—you folded my towel before leaving."
"That's called manners," Luca muttered. "You should try it sometime."
"I didn't complain," Kian said, grinning. "Just… noted it."
Luca rolled his eyes, but there was no bite in it. "You're annoying."
"You keep texting me, though."
"Because you know where the best food is," Luca replied, popping another dumpling into his mouth.That's your only redeeming quality."
Kian glanced at Luca—not just teasing now, but watching like he might miss something if he blinked.
"You're still a mess, though," Kian added casually.
Luca looked at him, lips twitching. "Wow. So supportive. Thanks."
"I mean it in the most affectionate way," Kian said, grinning. "It's part of your charm."
Luca shook his head but smiled. "You're lucky I like dumplings more than dignity."
Kian gave him a look, half teasing, half curious. "You sure you're okay?"
"I'm fine," Luca replied. Then, after a pause, "Just... had a weird morning."
Kian didn't press. He just nodded, popping the last dumpling into his mouth. "Well, if weird means you're quiet and actually listening for once, maybe I like weird mornings."
Luca snorted. "You liked it better when we didn't talk at all."
"That's not true," Kian said with an exaggerated pout. "I've always appreciated your voice. Especially when you—"
"Don't," Luca cut in, laughing despite himself. "Don't be that guy."
Kian leaned back on his hands, smirking. "Too late. You knew what you were signing up for when you agreed to dumplings with me."
"Regret," Luca muttered under his breath, but there was no bite to it.
They sat a moment longer, the tray between them empty now, the breeze tugging at the hem of their shirts.
Kian leaned back on his elbows, watching Luca with something between amusement and fondness. "You ever think about actually being serious with someone?"
Luca blinked, caught off-guard. "Where did that come from?"
Kian shrugged. "Just wondering. You've got that look—like your head's somewhere else lately."
Luca tossed his chopsticks into the tray. "That's just the midterm stress."
"Sure," Kian said lightly, though his gaze lingered. "Well, if you ever get tired of the emotional rollercoaster... you know where I am."
Luca gave a crooked smile. "You're too much work."
"You like the work," Kian shot back.
Luca shook his head, a chuckle slipping out. He didn't deny it.
A few moments passed in comfortable silence before Kian pushed off the wall and stretched.
"Alright, enough dumplings and emotional digging. Let's go figure out this assignment before I convince myself to drop the class."
Luca groaned dramatically but followed. "I'm only coming so you don't fail."
Kian glanced over his shoulder. "And because you like my company."
Luca didn't respond. He just walked beside him, the lightness in his chest betraying more than his silence ever would.
They walked off side by side, the kind of silence between them that came from familiarity—not closeness, but something almost like comfort.
Not everything needed a label. Some connections didn't ask for promises—just presence.
Sometimes, it was just two boys, dumplings, and a lazy afternoon that didn't ask too many questions.