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.
