Dear Roommate Please Stop Being Hot [BL]
Chapter 81: The Absence Beside Me

Chapter 81: The Absence Beside Me

The hiss of water faded, leaving silence in its place.

A moment later, the bathroom door creaked open, and a ribbon of steam slipped into the room—soft, warm, and out of place in the cold tension waiting beyond it.

Luca stepped out, towel around his waist, another in hand as he dried his hair. His skin still glistened faintly, damp from the shower. He stopped when he saw Noel.

"You’re back," he said, voice quiet, unsure.

Noel didn’t look up.

He just gave a small nod, eyes fixed on his laptop screen. His fingers hovered above the keyboard—but they didn’t move. No words. No work.

Just silence.

Luca stood there, towel hanging loosely in his hand, uncertain.

Then Noel spoke, still not looking at him. "Are you heading somewhere?"

Luca blinked. "No." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Wasn’t planning to."

Something in his voice tried to sound casual, but even he could hear the hesitation in it.

He felt it then—that shift. The kind of cold that wasn’t in the air but in the room. In him.

He rubbed his damp neck, suddenly aware that the warmth from the shower hadn’t followed him out. It had hit a wall—the kind Noel was now facing him with.

He set the towel down and moved closer, slower now.

"You okay?" he asked gently.

Noel’s fingers finally pressed the keys—but not to type. Just to do something. Anything.

"I’m trying to work," he said, barely above a whisper.

Luca paused, then reached out—his hand barely brushing Noel’s shoulder.

"Noel..."

But Noel pulled slightly away.

And without thinking—without softening his tone—he snapped.

"Please... I just need space. I don’t want to see you right now."

The words cut the room in half.

They slipped out before Noel could catch them.

Too fast. Too sharp.

Luca froze.

His hand stopped midair. His breath caught—just for a second—but long enough to feel it sink.

He didn’t say anything.

Didn’t ask why.

Didn’t press.

The silence that followed was heavy—like the kind they’d worked so hard to avoid since the beginning.

Noel finally glanced up, eyes wide with regret—but the damage was done.

Luca slowly took a step back, jaw tightening as he turned away.

The towel hit the chair softly as he sat down on his bed, facing the wall. His back was turned, but his shoulders had dropped.

And Noel—he sat with his laptop still open, the screen glaring back at him with nothing but a blank document.

Nothing said.

Nothing written.

Just the weight of what wasn’t.

Luca stood there a moment longer, towel still clutched in one hand.

Then, wordlessly, he turned away.

He walked to the corner of the room, pulled on a plain black shirt over his damp skin, then a pair of soft cotton pants. The rustling of fabric was the only sound between them.

When he returned to his bed, he didn’t lie down right away—he just sat at the edge, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor.

Finally, he slipped beneath the covers and turned onto his side, facing the wall.

His hand reached out to the nightstand, grabbing his phone.

The screen lit up immediately.

The message was still there—Kian: I miss you, Luca. Let’s meet. I’ll wait.—but he didn’t open it.

He didn’t blink. Just opened Instagram, dragging himself into the noise—anything to escape the stillness.

But the ache in his chest didn’t ease.

He wasn’t looking for anything in particular. Just noise. Distraction.

Behind him, Noel still sat on the other bed, shoulders hunched, laptop forgotten.

He exhaled slowly, eyes softening as guilt settled into his chest. That sharp sentence—"I don’t want to see you right now"—kept echoing back like a mistake he couldn’t undo.

So he got up.

Quietly.

Step by step.

He walked toward Luca’s bed—ready to say something. Anything. An apology, a question, a reach across the space.

But as he drew close, he saw it.

Luca had paused—his thumb hovering above the screen.

Kian’s new post was right there. A dimly lit photo. A late-night drive. Nothing specific.

But Luca wasn’t scrolling anymore. The screen blurred in front of him, thumb frozen mid-air—as if even distraction had failed him.

Noel stopped.

His brows furrowed, just slightly.

And without a word, he stepped back.

He returned to his bed like gravity had pulled him down. The mattress creaked softly beneath him. His laptop was still open, but he didn’t touch it. His back turned to Luca.

A moment passed.

Then another.

Then Luca let the phone slip from his hand—it fell with a soft thud onto the sheets.

He turned around, eyes finding the back of Noel’s head in the low light.

"...Hey," Luca said softly. "Noel. Is everything alright?"

Noel didn’t move.

"Hmm?" he murmured, voice muffled. "Just... leave me alone. Please."

He curled slightly, pulling the blanket closer, and turned his face to the wall.

That pause—please—wasn’t angry.

But it was enough.

Luca watched him a moment longer. The urge to reach out was there—in his fingers, in his throat—but he didn’t.

Because Noel had asked for space.

And that word—"alone"—hurt more than he expected.

So he stayed where he was.

Silent.

Still.

And in the same room, just a few feet apart, they both turned their backs to each other.

Neither of them sleeping.

Neither of them saying what they wanted to.

Morning light filtered weakly through the curtains, casting soft gold across the floorboards.

Noel stirred, eyes slowly opening to the stillness of the room.

He didn’t turn at first.

He lay there, eyes fixed on the wall, blankets half-draped over him.

The silence wasn’t unfamiliar—but now it felt different. Heavy. Tense in a way that hadn’t faded overnight.

His thoughts drifted back, slow and unwelcome.

Maybe I was too harsh, he thought.

Maybe he was just tired. Maybe he didn’t even see Kian’s message. Maybe it wasn’t what I thought.

He closed his eyes briefly.

Still... he didn’t say anything. Not even a word.

And that sat uneasily in his chest.

Eventually, he turned—hoping, maybe, for a quiet moment. A glance. Something to hold onto.

But Luca’s bed was empty.

The bed looked like a ghost of sleep—covers rumpled, pillow dented, warmth long gone. Luca was nowhere.

Noel sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep from his face. The cool air of the room touched his skin as he swung his legs down and reached for his own phone.

No messages.

No missed calls.

Nothing from Luca.

His chest tightened, just slightly.

He left without a word?

Noel stared at the screen for a moment longer, hoping it would light up. That maybe something had been delayed. A message just waiting to come through.

But it didn’t.

He let out a quiet sigh and stood, moving slowly through his morning routine. Pulling on his clothes. Running a hand through his hair. Eyes unfocused the whole time.

Even brushing his teeth felt mechanical.

He grabbed his bag, checked one last time—and still... nothing.

Noel lingered at the door a moment longer.

Then he turned the knob and stepped out.

The hallway outside was bright, students already shuffling past, lost in their own mornings. But for Noel, everything still felt dim.

The ache of last night hadn’t faded. It had just settled deeper.

As he made his way toward the lecture hall, his footsteps were steady, but his mind wandered.

He couldn’t stop wondering—

Did Luca wake early just to avoid me?

Was he meeting Kian?

Was I wrong to ask for space... or was I right to feel hurt?

He didn’t have the answers.

Only silence.

And the sound of his own footsteps carrying him forward.

The lecture hall was already half full when Noel stepped in.

Soft murmurs filled the space—backpacks rustling, pens clicking, someone’s low laugh echoing faintly across the room. It all felt far away to him.

He took his usual seat near the middle, first row from the back. The spot they always sat together.

His hand reached into his bag, pulling out a notebook and pen, laying them out like routine.

But when he looked beside him...

Luca’s seat was empty.

No surprise.

He already knew Luca didn’t have a class this morning.

Still... part of him had hoped. Maybe he’d show up anyway. Maybe he’d just sit beside me. Say something.

But the chair stayed empty.

Maybe they were both just trying to hurt less—and ended up hurting each other more.

The professor’s voice started up at the front — low and steady, launching into the day’s material. Something about social dynamics and decision-making. Noel tried to follow. Really tried.

But the words melted into noise.

His eyes kept drifting toward the door, even though he hated himself for it.

Once. Then again. And again.

Each time someone walked in late, his heart kicked—just slightly—only to settle when it wasn’t him.

The professor switched slides. Students scribbled. Someone yawned loudly.

Noel didn’t move.

His pen rested against the page, untouched.

His thoughts were too loud.

Where did you go, Luca?

Why didn’t you leave a message?

Was it because of what I said—or because of Kian?

He shifted in his seat, jaw tight.

The emptiness beside him felt sharp now. Like it wasn’t just a missing person, but a space that used to be warm.

His fingers hovered over his phone. For a moment, he considered texting Luca—just a simple "Where are you?"

But he didn’t.

He turned the screen off again.

Minutes passed. The professor’s voice carried on, but Noel’s notes remained blank.

When the lecture finally ended, the room stirred to life.

Chairs scraped, bags zipped, people shuffled out in pairs.

Noel stayed seated for a beat longer, eyes fixed on the desk in front of him.

He felt tired.

Not the kind of tired you could fix with sleep—but the kind that settled behind your eyes and stayed there.

Eventually, he packed up his things, moving slower than usual.

Still no message.

Still no Luca.

Only the echo of last night, and the silence that chose to stay.