Noel shut the door behind him with a soft click, the quiet of the evening slipping back into the corners of the house.
He moved around his room with slow steps—unbuttoning his shirt, letting it fall lazily over the back of his chair before heading into the bathroom.
The water hit the basin with a low splash, and he leaned over the sink, splashing his face, feeling the weight of the day roll off his shoulders.
A few minutes later, towel drying his hair, he dropped into the chair by his desk, the screen of his phone already lit in his hand.
He dialed.
The call didn't even ring once before the screen flickered to life.
"Hey," Luca's voice came through, low and oddly quick, as if he'd been sitting there waiting.
Noel blinked. "That was fast."
Luca shifted the phone in his hand. "I've been waiting."
His tone was calm, but something sat just under it—tight and unfinished. A pause hung in the air.
Noel leaned back in his chair. "I just got back home, you okay?"
"Yeah."
