The whiteboard was already half-covered in formulas and scattered notes when Noel slid into his seat. The hum of voices dulled as the professor raised his marker again.
Noel leaned forward slightly, pen in hand, his notebook open and half-filled with tight, precise handwriting.
He tuned out the rustling of papers, the occasional coughs, and the faint beat of someone's earbuds behind him.
Today, he didn't want distractions. Not Luca. Not his thoughts. Not even the memory of that smirk this morning.
His pen moved steadily, eyes sharp behind his glasses.
"…so if the coefficient increases by point five, what does that do to the model's output?" the professor asked.
Noel's fingers paused for a fraction of a second—just long enough to process the equation—and then resumed.
His notes were neat, margins straight. He underlined the key point once. Clean. Efficient. Quiet.
Just the way he liked it.
At least here, everything made sense.
Equations didn't flirt. Data didn't smirk at him from across a shared bedroom. And numbers never came out of the shower half-naked with water dripping down their abs.
Noel clicked his pen. Harder than necessary.
Focus. He underlined the next variable like it owed him answers.
He needed to stay ahead. Needed this grade.
He scribbled down a possible solution, biting the inside of his cheek. The world outside this classroom could wait.
Especially a certain silver-haired idiot who somehow kept invading his perfectly organized brain.
The professor moved on, shifting into a case study, his voice calm and methodical. Charts appeared on the screen—trends, probabilities, margins of error.
A few students zoned out, heads propped on hands, screens glowing faintly in their laps.
But Noel was still tuned in.
His notes kept building, line by line. He highlighted the professor's emphasis, marked where to double-check a formula. Every movement was focused, practiced. Calculated.
He barely blinked.
Even when someone's phone vibrated loudly. Even when the professor made a joke half the class chuckled at.
Even when his mind tried to drift—toward Luca's towel. Noel crushed that thought with a firm stroke of his pen.
The last slide clicked onto the screen.
"Alright," the professor said, stretching his back, "your next assignment is on the portal. Due Friday. No extensions."
Chairs creaked. Bags zipped. The usual post-class shuffle began.
Noel calmly gathered his things, slipping his pens into a tidy pouch and closing his notebook with a quiet snap.
He slung his bag over his shoulder and stepped out of the classroom into the open corridor.
The breeze outside was a relief—cool, a little sharp.
That's when he saw Alex.
The guy sat cross-legged on a stone bench near the lawn, a notebook sprawled open in front of him, brows furrowed like he was trying to unravel a riddle.
His lips moved soundlessly, muttering to himself as he scribbled, paused, then scribbled again—only to sigh and cross it out in frustration.
Noel hesitated just a moment, then walked over.
You look like you're about to stab that notebook, he said, setting his bag down beside Alex.
Alex glanced up, startled. "Noel. Oh man—I'm dying. This equation makes zero sense. I've reworked it four times and I swear it keeps getting worse."
"Let me see," Noel said, already sitting down beside him.
Alex shifted the notebook closer, and they leaned in. Together, they worked through the problem, Noel quietly pointing out a misstep in the formula, Alex nodding along, occasionally swearing under his breath when something clicked.
Time passed without them noticing.
Noel, calm and precise. Alex, messy and loud. But between the scribbles and corrections, a rhythm formed.
They were different—but right now, they made a good team.
"Wait—so it's supposed to be factored before plugging it in?" Alex asked, eyes narrowing as Noel guided his finger to a line in the formula.
Noel nodded. "Exactly. If you skip that step, you're working with incomplete data. That's why your numbers weren't aligning."
Alex groaned dramatically and slumped against the backrest. "Ugh, you're a lifesaver. I would've flunked this if you didn't show up."
Noel gave a soft shrug, flipping to the next page. "You weren't far off. You just overcomplicated it."
Alex leaned forward again, scribbling as Noel corrected a few more lines. By the time they reached the final calculation, a gust of wind flipped the corner of the notebook, and Alex caught it just in time.
"There," Noel said, tapping the boxed answer with his pen. "That's the right solution."
Alex stared at it, then at Noel. "You just—how do you make this stuff look easy?"
Noel gave a small smile. "It's just practice. And a little patience."
Alex exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Two things I'm short on."
Noel packed his pens back into his pouch. "Well, it's not about being perfect. You're trying, and that's the point."
Alex tilted his head, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "Huh. That almost sounded like encouragement."
"Don't get used to it," Noel said dryly, standing up.
Alex laughed. "Too late."
They stood together, the breeze brushing past them, notebooks tucked under their arms. For a second, they lingered in silence.
"You're really not as scary as people think," Alex said suddenly.
Noel blinked, startled. "Scary?"
"Yeah. You've got that whole cold genius vibe. But you're actually kinda chill."
Noel looked away, embarrassed but masking it behind a calm expression. "Don't tell anyone. I have a reputation to maintain."
Alex chuckled as they began walking side by side down the path. "Your secret's safe with me, Professor Noel."
"Noel didn't linger, but the rhythm of solving something together... it stayed with him longer than expected."
As Noel climbed the stairs back to the dorm, the weight of the day settled in his shoulders—not heavy, just... full.
The conversation with Alex had left a faint warmth in his chest, like he'd done something good without meaning to.
He pushed the door open.
Inside, the hum of electronic music and rapid clicks filled the room. Luca was on the floor, legs crossed, game controller in hand, eyes locked on the screen. He didn't even glance up when Noel entered.
The room smelled faintly of instant noodles and Luca's cologne. Headphone wires snaked across the carpet like lazy traps.
Noel frowned. "Aren't you supposed to be in class right now?"
Luca muttered something under his breath, dodging a pixelated enemy on screen. "Hmm? Oh... yeah, that."
Noel raised an eyebrow. "It's almost three."
"Time's an illusion," Luca said flatly, mashing buttons as if that somehow proved his point. "Besides, attendance is optional. Mentally, I'm there."
"You're going to fail that course if you keep skipping."
"I'm acing the game, though," Luca grinned, not taking his eyes off the screen. "That's gotta count for something."
Noel dropped his bag by the desk and crossed his arms. "You said you'd go today."
"Plans changed." Luca finally paused, tilting his head toward Noel with a smirk. "You miss me or something?"
Noel rolled his eyes, walking toward the bed and pulling Luca's jacket off of it. "I miss having a functioning roommate who doesn't treat our room like a daycare."
Luca snorted, unbothered. "You say that, but you keep coming back."
Noel turned toward him, jacket still in hand. "This is literally my room."
"Exactly," Luca said, eyes back on the game. "You chose this chaos."
Noel shook his head with a sigh, walking to the window and cracking it open to let in some air.
The sunlight spilled across the floor, catching on the edges of Luca's silver-gray hair as he leaned into the screen, completely lost in his own world.
And somehow, despite everything, Noel couldn't help but feel that strange flicker of something again—annoyance... or maybe amusement.
Maybe both.
Noel tossed Luca's jacket onto the edge of his bed and turned back, arms crossed like a parent fed up with their rebellious teen.
"You're seriously unbelievable," he muttered, glaring at the screen. "You skipped this morning and now this one too? How are you even planning to pass anything?"
Luca tilted his head just slightly, like he was hearing but not really listening. "Mmm, I'll charm my way through finals. Professors love a good smile."
"Charm doesn't get you credits." Noel took a step closer, blocking part of the screen. "Or maybe you're aiming for academic probation? Is that the vibe now?"
Luca paused the game.
His head snapped up, annoyed—but Noel didn't flinch.
"I don't need a lecture, Mom."
Noel's jaw tightened. "And I don't need a roommate who treats school like a joke."
Luca leaned back, stretching his arms lazily. "It's one class. One boring, overhyped, soul-sucking class."
"Which you need to graduate," Noel snapped. "Unless you're planning on staying here forever. Then please, by all means, let the failure begin."
Silence.
Luca stared at him for a moment, the smug grin finally slipping just enough to reveal something underneath—tiredness, maybe. Or guilt. It was hard to tell with him.
Noel took a breath, his tone softening, "Look, you're not dumb, Luca. But you can't keep doing this and pretending it doesn't matter."
Luca sighed heavily, letting his head fall back with a groan. "You're relentless, you know that?"
"Someone has to be."
Another beat passed before Luca slowly got up, letting the controller drop onto the floor with a dramatic sigh.
"Fine, fine, I'm going," he grumbled, dragging his feet toward his bed where his backpack lay untouched.
"You're welcome," Noel said.
Luca pointed at him. "If I fail because I slept through this lecture, I'm blaming you."
Noel raised a brow. "If you fail, it's because you missed the last four."
Luca smirked, finally slinging the bag over his shoulder. "You're lucky I find your nagging cute."
"I'm sorry, what?" Noel froze, his brain stuttering like a misfired equation.
"Nothing," Luca said, already halfway out the door. "Don't wait up!"
The door shut behind him with a loud click, and Noel stood frozen for a second, his face flushed with an emotion he didn't want to name.
He turned slowly toward the window again, muttering under his breath, "He's so exhausting…"
But for the first time today, he was smiling