The windows let in a spill of soft sunlight. Outside, someone was strumming a guitar near the fountain.
Luca returned with a tray balanced in one hand, a bottle of water tucked under his arm.
"Survival rations," he said, setting down the iced coffee in front of Noel. "Extra shot. You looked like you needed it."
Noel gave a faint smile. "You weren't wrong."
Luca slid into the seat across from him, ruffling his own hair. "I deserve an award for sitting through that lecture awake."
"You yawned through half of it."
"Still counts as staying conscious."
Emily snorted. "You two were tense the whole time. I thought Luca was going to fake a nosebleed just to leave."
"I considered it," Luca said, picking at a croissant. "But I think she would've made me clean it up."
Their laughter came easy now—lighter, the weight of Kessler's voice finally settled behind them.
The café hummed with background chatter, clinking spoons, and the occasional hiss of espresso machines.
