9:12 AM – Campus Gym
The familiar scent of rubber mats, steel, and faint citrus cleaner clung to the air as Luca wiped sweat from his brow.
It had been a while—weeks, maybe more—since he last stepped foot into this gym. The place hadn't changed, but something inside him had.
His hoodie hung loosely over the bench, earbuds in, music pulsing through his veins as he finished his last rep.
He dropped the bar with a controlled exhale, chest rising and falling as he leaned back, letting his muscles settle into the ache.
"Didn't expect to see you here," a voice called from behind.
Luca turned, already knowing who it was.
Kian stood near the entrance to the weight section, water bottle in hand, towel over his shoulder.
His hair was a little damp, probably from the earlier treadmill run.
His smile—soft, familiar—barely masked the tension beneath it.
Luca pulled out one earbud, lips bugging into something between amusement and wariness. "Didn't expect to be here myself."
Kian walked over, stopping beside Luca's bench. "It's been a while. This used to be our Sunday ritual."
Luca let out a short laugh. "Yeah. You used to drag me here at 7 a.m. sharp, even when I was hungover."
Kian chuckled, eyes glinting with something wistful. "You never really complained. Not much, anyway."
Luca didn't respond to that. He grabbed his water bottle, sipping slowly, letting the silence stretch.
Kian sat on the adjacent bench, towel draped across his lap. "I'm glad you came back."
Luca rolled the bottle between his hands. "I needed to move."
Kian nodded. "You've been avoiding me."
Luca met his gaze, honest and tired. "I wasn't ready."
"For me?"
"For… all of it."
Kian looked down, thumb running over the edge of his towel. "I know I messed up. I didn't fight hard enough when I should've."
"And I didn't wait," Luca said quietly. "We both did what we thought we had to."
They sat with that.
The gym faded a little—background noise, clanking metal, soft grunts, all blending into white noise.
Luca glanced sideways. Kian was watching him, eyes searching for something he wasn't sure was still there.
"You're still important to me, Luca," Kian said, voice low. "Even if it's not the same. I don't want to lose that."
Luca looked down at his fingers, the calluses on his palms. "You were my favorite person, Kian."
Were. Not are.
He didn't mean for the words to cut, but they did. He saw it in the way Kian blinked, in the slight shift of his jaw.
"But," Luca added, softer now, "there's still something. Small. Like... a thread."
Kian looked at him, hope flickering—but not fully lit.
"That's enough for me," he said, almost a whisper. "For now."
Luca gave a faint nod, gaze distant. He wasn't sure what to say to that—maybe there was nothing left to say. But Kian wasn't done.
"Come on," Kian said, standing up with a quick movement that masked the hesitation in his chest. "Let's grab some water. Cool off."
Before Luca could object, Kian lightly nudged his arm, the gesture casual—too casual.
They walked in silence through the corridor of metal lockers, steam curling in the air.
Luca reached his, halfway down the row. Behind him, Kian leaned against the cool metal, arms folded—watching, like he used to.
Luca opened his locker, grabbing a towel and wiping his neck. Behind him, Kian leaned against the lockers, arms folded, watching him like he used to.
"You still use that cologne," Kian murmured, stepping closer. "I noticed it the second you passed me."
Luca smirked lightly, tossing the towel into his bag. "You gave it to me."
"I know," Kian said, voice softening as he closed the space between them. "Smells like last year. You. Us."
Luca didn't move—not immediately. He felt the familiar pull. The weight of shared memories, late-night walks, hands brushing under the table, laughter in places that used to feel like the whole world.
Kian reached forward, fingers grazing the hem of Luca's shirt. "You're still the same here," he whispered, pressing lightly at Luca's chest. "But your eyes… something's changed."
Luca's breath caught for half a second. He didn't back away, but he didn't lean in either. There was a beat—two heartbeats too long—where it almost happened.
Kian tilted his face closer. "You still want me don't you?
Luca blinked slowly, the fog starting to lift. And just like that, he remembered.
The promise of warmth waiting elsewhere.
A quiet bed with a boy curled up reading at the edge, someone who looked away when their eyes met, whose heartbeat was audible in silence. A gentle kind of pull—different from Kian's fire.
"I—" Luca stepped back, breath snagging. "Shit. I promised—I said I'd bring him coffee."
It sounded flimsy even to his own ears. But the moment had cracked—split down the center.
All he could feel now was the weight of someone else's quiet waiting.
Kian blinked. "Him?"
Luca didn't answer that.
He was already grabbing his bag, towel half-stuffed, hoodie half-on.
He moved quickly, heart pounding for reasons he didn't want to untangle right now.
"Luca, wait," Kian called after him, voice sharp, uncertain..
But Luca was already at the door, palm against the cool push bar, chest rising fast as if the air outside might calm something inside.
He didn't stop until he was down the street, café in sight, the smell of roasted beans and weekend warmth slipping into his lungs.
He checked his phone.
Noel had reposted Alex's photo again. The one of them smiling in the late light.
Luca smiled quietly, shoulders relaxing, and pushed the door open.
Back in the locker room, Kian stood alone for a beat too long. His fingers dropped from where they'd last touched Luca's shirt. He didn't move until the echo of the door faded behind him.
The café bell chimed softly as Luca stepped inside, brushing off the early summer air still clinging to his skin.
The rich scent of ground beans and vanilla drifted around him like a memory he didn't know he'd been craving.
It was quieter than usual—only a few customers scattered at the tables. Behind the counter, the barista offered a small nod of recognition.
Luca ordered two drinks without thinking: his usual and Noel's. He knew by now. Knew the exact syrup, the temperature, the way Noel preferred it just barely sweetened. He hadn't meant to memorize it, but somehow he had.
As he waited, he leaned against the wooden counter, scrolling through his phone. Noel had added another song to his shared playlist. Luca smiled faintly. It was a soft track—melancholic, slow-burning, something that echoed even after it ended.
He could still feel Kian's fingers at the edge of his shirt. The heat in that locker room. The weight of a past that once meant everything.
But that moment had passed.
And this—this quiet coffee order, this familiarity he'd never planned—felt more real.
The drinks arrived, and Luca thanked the barista with a low murmur. Two warm cups in his hands. One for him. One for the boy who looked away when emotions got too loud.
He stepped outside, the street bathed in gold from the dipping sun. The day wasn't over. Not yet.
As he walked, he imagined Noel still curled up with his book, maybe headphones in, maybe not.
He pictured that little crease between Noel's brows when he was focused—and how it always smoothed out when Luca said something dumb just to make him smile.
He picked up his pace.
This coffee wasn't just coffee anymore.
The key clicked in the door, and the quiet of the dorm welcomed him like a pause in a long sentence.
Luca stepped inside, his shoes brushing lightly against the wooden floor as he pushed the door closed with his back.
He held the coffee tray like it was fragile, like what it meant hadn't fully formed yet.
Noel was exactly where he imagined—curled up at the edge of his bed, legs folded beneath him, a thick book propped open on his knees.
His glasses had slid slightly down the bridge of his nose, and faint music hummed from the speaker on his desk.
Luca smiled. Quietly. Naturally.
"You didn't move all day?" he said, setting the tray down on Noel's desk.
Noel looked up, blinking once as if surfacing from another world. "I did. Once. To stretch."
Luca laughed under his breath. "Reckless."
Coffee? Noel asked, eyes flicking to the tray.
I had a feeling you missed me.
I didn't, Noel replied.
Luca smiled. Liar.
"You did." Luca picked up the one he knew was Noel's and offered it to him. "Just admit it. This is how a stoic little nerd says 'I was lost without you.'"
Noel took the cup, trying—failing—not to smile. "No. This is how I say, 'You're lucky you know my order.'"
"Same thing." Luca plopped onto his own bed, taking a slow sip of his drink. "That's gratitude. That's affection. That's basically a love confession."
Noel didn't answer at first, just stared at the cup in his hands. Then, quietly, almost too softly:
"You're annoying."
Luca glanced over at him, head tilted. "But you didn't say 'wrong.'"
Their eyes met across the quiet space between their beds.
Outside, the sun dipped lower, painting the walls in soft, golden-orange streaks. The dorm felt warm, like something was settling into place.
"Wanna finish the movie tonight?" Luca asked, voice lighter now. "The one that ended right before it got good."
Noel paused. Then nodded. "Only if you let me pick snacks."
"Deal."
And just like that, the moment folded into something new again—quiet but brimming, the way slow burns always are.