Dear Roommate Please Stop Being Hot [BL]
Chapter 61: I’ll Wait for You

Chapter 61: I’ll Wait for You

The sky had shifted to a soft violet, streaked with gold along the horizon.

Students filtered across the quad, heading to dorms, late classes, or nowhere in particular.

Noel pushed the door open and stepped out first, the cooler air brushing against his face.

He exhaled slowly, adjusting the strap of his bag as Luca followed behind, stretching like he’d just survived a prison sentence.

"God, that place is a vacuum," Luca groaned. "How do you not lose your soul in there?"

Noel didn’t miss a beat. "Maybe I never had one to begin with."

Luca let out a bark of laughter. "Okay, Dracula."

Noel gave him a look, dry and unimpressed. "I’m not the one who followed me into the academic void without even a book."

"I brought vibes," Luca said, hand to his chest in mock offense. "That counts for something."

Noel shook his head, hiding a small smile. "You brought your entire lack of preparation."

"And yet," Luca said, stepping closer, "you still let me sit with you. What does that say about you, huh?"

"It says I was too tired to argue."

Luca grinned. "Or... you secretly love my company and just don’t know how to admit it yet."

Noel paused mid-step, turning slightly. "That’s a big leap."

"I’m a leaper," Luca said, without shame.

"You’re a menace."

"And still," Luca mused, walking backward now so he could face Noel, arms lazily folded behind his head, "you let this ’menace’ break into your sacred library time."

"That’s because you didn’t give me a choice."

"You could’ve told me to go."

Noel raised a brow. "Would you have?"

Luca gave a small shrug, smirking. "Probably not. But you would’ve looked sexy trying."

Noel blinked. That word slipped out too casually. Like Luca hadn’t even realized he’d said it.

But Noel had.

His pulse kicked once, annoyingly loud in his chest. He looked away, trying to play it off with a scoff. "You’re unbelievable."

"I try." Luca winked and spun back around beside him.

Their shoulders nearly brushed again.

They strolled in silence for a moment, the library fading behind them.

"I don’t get you sometimes," Luca said suddenly, softer now.

Noel glanced sideways. "Good."

"No, I mean... you’re all sharp edges in class. Always a step ahead, no time for nonsense." He nudged him lightly. "Then out here, you’re just... quiet. Hard to read."

"That’s probably on purpose."

"I figured," Luca said, grinning again. "Still gonna read you anyway."

Noel gave him a sidelong look. "And what do you think you’ve read so far?"

Luca pretended to think, tapping his chin. "That you pretend you don’t like people, but you care more than anyone else in the room.

That you act calm, but you overthink everything. And... that you’re better at hiding how you feel than you think."

Noel stopped walking.

Just for a second.

Luca noticed but didn’t say anything. He just stood beside him, quiet, letting the words settle between them.

Then Noel started walking again. "That’s a lot of assumptions."

Luca grinned. "I’m usually right."

"You’re usually loud."

"And" Luca said, letting the words stretch just a little, "you still haven’t told me I’m wrong."

Noel didn’t answer.

But the flush just under his cheekbones—almost hidden by the fading light—said more than words would’ve anyway.

They reached the small intersection between the library and the path that curved toward the lecture halls.

The breeze had picked up slightly, tugging at Luca’s hoodie strings and ruffling Noel’s hair where it had started to fall loose near his temple.

Luca slowed his steps.

"So," he said casually, hands shoved into his pockets, "should we head back to the dorm?"

Noel shook his head. "Nah. I’ve got class."

Luca blinked. "Now? You just got out of the library. Aren’t you tired?"

"Yeah," Noel said, adjusting the strap of his bag, "but I have to go. Attendance."

Luca groaned, tilting his head back. "You and your eternal sense of responsibility. Unreal."

"I’ll be done in about an hour and a half," Noel said as he started to move again.

Luca followed for a few steps, then stopped. "Alright. I’ll wait for you."

Noel turned, brows slightly raised. "You don’t have to."

"I know," Luca said simply. "But I want to."

Noel didn’t say anything at first. His gaze lingered on Luca’s face, maybe trying to read if he was joking.

But Luca’s expression didn’t carry its usual smirk. It was open. Easy. Sincere.

"I won’t sleep," Luca added with a crooked grin. "So don’t take forever."

Noel let out a quiet breath—half a scoff, half a smile. "You’ll be asleep in twenty."

"Bet you ten bucks I’m not."

"You still owe me ten bucks from last time."

Luca shrugged, backing away toward the dorm path. "Guess I’ll make it twenty."

Noel gave a soft shake of his head, then turned toward the lecture hall.

As he walked off, he didn’t look back—but the faint tug at his lips lingered longer than he expected.

And somewhere behind him, Luca stood for another beat—watching until Noel disappeared around the corner.

The classroom was dim except for the cold light spilling from the projection screen.

A low hum buzzed from the ceiling vents, and the professor’s voice echoed in a steady, practiced rhythm.

He sat near the back, ankle hooked over his knee, his notebook open like a ritual he couldn’t finish. The scratch of other students’ pens felt far away—like he was underwater.

His pen rested between his fingers.

His eyes were on the slide—*"Ethical Constructs in Media Representation"—*but none of it stuck.

Across the room, students typed lazily or scrolled through their phones beneath the desk.

The girl two seats over had her head tilted on her palm, half-asleep already.

Noel shifted in his seat. Checked the clock.

6:12.

He tried to focus.

Tried to let the professor’s words pull him in the way they usually did. This class was one of his favorites. Logic. Structure. Clean lines of argument and counterpoint. No mess. No grey.

But tonight...

Tonight his thoughts kept slipping sideways.

Back to the way Luca had leaned against the library glass, sunlight catching the silver in his hair.

The way he’d said I’ll wait for you—so casually, like it wasn’t a promise that had wrapped itself around Noel’s chest and tugged tight.

Noel blinked. Realized he hadn’t written a single word in twenty minutes.

He tapped his pen against the page, sharp and quiet.

The professor clicked to the next slide: "Moral obligation vs. emotional instinct."

Noel exhaled softly through his nose.

Too real.

He glanced at the clock again.

6:27.

Still over an hour left.

He leaned back in his chair, letting his head tip against the wall behind him for a second.

He wasn’t the kind of person who let emotions cloud him. Not during lectures. Not during anything, if he could help it.

And yet, here he was.

Half-listening. Half-waiting.

He wondered if Luca was actually staying awake, if he’d fallen asleep with his hoodie over his head, sprawled across Noel’s bed like he owned it.

The thought made his stomach do something annoying.

He sat up straighter. Forced himself to write a sentence—"Moral obligation becomes blurred when emotional loyalty interferes."

He stared at the words. Then underlined blurred three times before letting the pen fall again.

The click of the remote was the softest sound in the room, but for Noel, it cracked like thunder.

"...Alright," the professor said, voice even, "we’ll stop here for today. Next week, we’ll continue with moral conflict and internalized bias. Review the readings. You’ll need them."

Chairs squeaked. Bags rustled. A few students let out low groans as the slide blinked off and the lights flickered half-bright.

Noel was already packing.

His notes were messier than usual, his handwriting trailing off mid-sentence near the bottom of the page.

He tucked his pen inside the spiral rings, closed the notebook, and slid it into his bag with one smooth motion.

He didn’t linger.

Didn’t chat, didn’t check his phone.

His legs carried him quickly through the aisle and out into the corridor, the cold air hitting his skin with the kind of bite that usually helped him think.

But tonight, his thoughts were already set on one thing.

Luca.

The words from earlier still played in his head, soft but persistent.

"I’ll wait for you."

Noel crossed the quad with brisk steps, ignoring the way streetlamps buzzed to life one by one, casting long shadows across the grass.

The campus had quieted into that in-between state—students either heading to late classes or settling in for the night.

The dorm building came into view, windows glowing like scattered stars.

He didn’t run. But he didn’t slow either.

Up the stairs. Down the hall.

His key clicked into the door.

And he pushed it open—

Empty.

Noel froze in the doorway.

The room was dim, one desk lamp left on—his, casting a soft golden pool over the edge of his notes and the closed lid of his laptop.

The other side of the room was untouched. Luca’s blanket still rumpled from earlier, his jacket slung over the back of the chair.

But he wasn’t here.

Noel stepped inside, slowly closing the door behind him with a soft click.

His bag slipped off his shoulder and landed beside his bed with a dull thud.

He stood there for a second.

Then muttered to himself, under his breath, "Idiot."

He rubbed the back of his neck, lips pressed into a thin line.

What did you expect?

He moved to his desk and sat down heavily, hand dragging through his hair. His fingers hovered over his phone, hesitating. Then he opened his messages.

Still nothing.

Noel typed:

"Where are you?"

He stared at it for a second, thumb hovering over the send button—then hit it.

The message went blue.

No dots. No reply.

He leaned back in his chair, eyes fixed on the door like it might open if he wished hard enough.

It didn’t.

Only silence met him. And the ache of waiting.

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