The city stretched quiet beneath them, a thousand windows glowing soft against the night.
Luca leaned back against the railing, still warm from Noel's embrace, his grin lazy but unshakable.
Noel hadn't stepped away—he hovered close, arms crossed now, gaze trained more on Luca than the skyline.
"You're going to be impossible tomorrow," Noel said suddenly, voice dry.
Luca tilted his head. "Impossible? Me?"
"At the internship." Noel's mouth tugged at the corner, almost a smile. "I can already picture it. You, pretending to be serious. Trying to act professional."
"Excuse you," Luca shot back, a hand to his chest. "I can be very serious. Stone-cold serious. People will bow before my commitment and work ethic."
"Mm." Noel's hum was skeptical, deliberate. "You lasted five minutes folding laundry before turning it into a performance."
"That was strategy," Luca countered, grinning wider. "Keep morale high, keep you entertained. If I'm boring, you'll ditch me."
