The air outside was crisp — not cold, just enough to make Noel pull his sleeves over his wrists as they strolled side by side down the main path.
Luca walked with one hand in his hoodie pocket, the other dangling loosely between them, brushing against Noel's occasionally but never quite holding it.
"You know," Luca said, "if you want to hold my hand, you can just ask."
Noel raised a brow. "Bold of you to assume I want to."
"You keep bumping it," Luca smirked. "You're practically flirting."
"I'm not flirting," Noel muttered.
Luca leaned in, whispering near his ear, "You're blushing."
"I am not—" Noel cut himself off because yes, he was.
They rounded the corner onto the central quad, and just ahead, two figures came into view.
Emily was easy to spot — standing confidently near one of the benches, waving the moment she caught sight of them.
