Morning filtered through the thin curtains, casting soft golden streaks across the room.
The air was still, gently warm, touched by the hum of campus life beginning outside.
Noel stirred first, disoriented until the soft rise and fall beside him grounded him again.
Luca.
Still curled close, still asleep, his hair messy, lips parted just slightly. His hand, somehow, was still lightly tangled with Noel's.
Noel blinked at the ceiling, the events of the night trickling back like sunlight through mist.
Study session. Instant noodles. Quiet. Blanket. And this.
He should move. Say something. Anything.
Instead, he looked down at Luca again.
"You're gonna drool on my shirt." Noel's voice was low, teasing.
Luca mumbled something unintelligible in his sleep, then shifted—and just like that, his eyes cracked open.
"…what time is it?" Luca's voice was husky with sleep.
"Past eight," Noel replied, though he hadn't checked. "You fell asleep."
