CHAPTER 139: ROOM 3B: THE GOODBYE THAT STAYED

The hallway light buzzed softly overhead as Luca pushed open the dorm room door.

It creaked the way it always had, but this time, no voice called out. No hum of a tune. No "Luca, you left your charger again."

Just silence.

He stepped inside.

The faint scent of Noel’s cologne still clung to the air—woodsy, warm, like something living that hadn’t yet realized it was supposed to be gone.

His eyes swept the room.

No hoodie slung over the chair.

No scribbled post-its on the mirror. No half-eaten candy hidden behind the lamp.

Just clean lines and stillness.

Luca didn’t move past the threshold at first.

His bag slipped off his shoulder with a soft thud, but he stayed standing—caught between memories and now.

Eventually, he reached for his phone. Not because he needed it, but because the silence pressed too closely against his chest.

His thumb moved over the screen—scrolling, tapping, reading nothing.

Then the screen lit up.

Noel.

He swiped up quickly. "Hey."

"Hey you," came the soft reply. Noel’s voice was wrapped in the hush of distant night sounds—a ceiling fan’s hum, a soft creak of bedsheets.

"You home?" Luca asked.

"Mhm. Just made it to Grandma’s. She nearly tackled me with hugs."

Luca’s shoulders eased slightly. "How’s she?"

"She was sweeping the yard when I got here," Noel chuckled, like it still amused him. "Tried to take the broom. Big mistake. I was declared weak and disrespectful in under two minutes."

A faint smile ghosted across Luca’s lips. "That sounds... about right."

"She just fell asleep now. After six hours of nonstop gisting. I think I know what every neighbor’s doing with their lives."

"You love it."

"I do," Noel admitted quietly.

The line went still for a second—not empty, just full of breath.

"You okay?" Noel asked.

Luca’s gaze flicked to the bed, the one that used to be warm and messy. Now it looked too made-up. Too untouched.

"I’m alright," he said, voice softer. "Just got to the dorm. It’s... different without you."

"Hmm," Noel hummed, understanding threading through the sound."I left some noise in the drawer. Check the second one. Maybe it’ll echo."

That drew a real laugh from Luca. "You’re ridiculous."

"Maybe," Noel said, "but I still miss you."

Luca turned toward the window.

The city was fading into a darker orange, streetlights blinking to life one by one.

"Same here," he murmured.

He lowered himself onto the edge of the desk, fingers tugging at the hem of his shirt. "Feels too quiet."

"I thought the same thing earlier," Noel said. "Even Grandma noticed. Said I’m calmer here."

Luca raised an eyebrow, though Noel couldn’t see it. "You? Calmer?"

"She talks a lot. Sometimes I need a buffer."

"Wow. So now I’m a buffer?"

"Only the best kind," Noel said, smiling through the words. "The kind who eats the last biscuit and somehow gets a kiss for it."

Luca laughed quietly, and this time it stayed in the room with him.

"You’ll stay the night?"

"Yeah. She wouldn’t let me leave even if I wanted to. Keeps hugging me like she thinks I’ll disappear again."

"I’m glad you went," Luca said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I’ll head home tomorrow," Noel replied. Then softer, "Miss you."

Luca leaned back on his palms, head tilted toward the ceiling. "Miss you too."

Another pause settled between them—easy now. Like a blanket.

"I should let you rest," Noel murmured.

"I’ll try," Luca said.

"Goodnight, Luca."

His voice was low. "Night, Noel."

The call ended, but the quiet didn’t return the same way.

Luca stared at his screen for a moment before setting the phone down.

He lay back on the bed, one arm draped over his forehead.

The silence wasn’t heavy now.

Just waiting.

For Noel.

Luca stayed lying there for a while, the dim light from his phone screen casting soft shadows on the ceiling.

His thumb moved again, out of habit. Just scrolling.

A new post caught his eye—George, grinning beside his mom outside a pastry shop, holding a ridiculously large croissant. "Sunday traditions. She never lets me skip."

Luca smiled faintly, double tapped the photo.

Another one followed. Emily, arms wrapped tightly around Lina.

They stood against a sunlit backdrop, cheeks pressed together, big smiles.

The caption: "Happy Girlfriend Day. You saved my chaos." A heart emoji followed.

He paused. Smiled again—but this time, softer, with something tender behind it.

Emily never tried to hide it. Never toned herself down to make people comfortable.

They looked happy. Effortlessly so.

Luca set the phone down on his chest, his gaze drifting lazily toward the bathroom door.

He stared at it a moment—then a memory surfaced, vivid and warm.

"Go brush your teeth, dummy. I’m not cuddling with coffee breath."

Noel’s voice had teased, full of mock scolding and affection.

Luca chuckled under his breath.

That exact moment flickered behind his eyes—Noel, arms crossed, one eyebrow arched like he meant it, but already grinning because he knew Luca would ignore him for a few more seconds just to be annoying.

He rose, slow and barefoot, padding across the room.

The bathroom door creaked open the same way it always did.

He flicked on the light and stood at the sink.

Toothbrush. Paste. Routine.

His reflection stared back at him—bare skin, tired eyes, and a still-damp curl falling across his forehead.

He reached up to fix it absently, brushing it back the way Noel used to.

The mirror was quiet now.

No toothbrush tossed beside his.

No giggling behind the curtain.

No foggy hearts drawn on the glass.

Just... him.

He blinked. Swallowed. Then rinsed and spat.

The water shut off with a final, hollow drip.

He returned to the room, brushing past the desk where Noel used to scribble lyrics late into the night.

His bed felt colder somehow, even though the sheets were warm.

Luca climbed in slowly, turning to his side.

He tucked one arm beneath the pillow and clutched it a little closer—like it could still carry some of the warmth Noel left behind.

His gaze drifted across the room, falling on the empty side that used to be full of life and mess.

His voice came out in a murmur, almost too soft for the walls to hold.

"Good night, Noel."

He didn’t expect an answer.

Still, he smiled as he closed his eyes.

And the night settled in—quiet, but no longer empty.

Morning crept in quietly, slipping under the curtains like a familiar sigh. Luca stirred, one arm reaching for a warmth that wasn’t there.

9:32.

The sunlight had already climbed past the windowsill, spilling over the room in quiet patches.

He stayed still for a while, staring at the ceiling like it held answers he didn’t want to ask for.

Then finally, he sat up, dragging a hand over his face and letting out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

He splashed cold water over his face in the bathroom.

It did nothing to shake the weight pressing on his chest.

Every corner of the room, every soft sound, every scent—Noel was everywhere.

And that quiet feeling in the air that was distinctly... Noel.

Luca leaned on the sink edge, breathing slowly. "If I stay here any longer," he whispered to himself, voice hollow, "I’ll lose it."

He dried his face, walked out, and stood in front of the wardrobe.

One beat. Then another.

He opened it.

The doors creaked like a reluctant goodbye.

Clothes hung neatly—some his, some folded by Noel when he used to get frustrated at Luca’s laziness.

Luca’s fingers brushed along a hoodie, then stopped. "Guess it’s time to move out," he muttered.

Most students were already gone anyway.

The hallways had grown quiet—just freshmen and a few seniors left behind. It made the silence louder.

He pulled out his suitcase, opened it wide on the bed, and began packing.

Not neatly. Not thoughtfully. He just shoved things in—shirts, jeans, socks—all tangled together.

He paused only once. Standing at the center of the room, suitcase half-full.

He stared at the walls.

Room 3B.

The first time he’d stepped into this place... it felt like entering someone else’s temple.

He stared at the walls. They used to hold sound. Breath. A whole beginning. His mind drifted.

[Flashback Begins]

Not a sock out of place. The air even smelled... sterilized. Like lemon wipes and judgment.

"Wow," Luca muttered, dragging his suitcase across the shiny floor. "Monastery chic."

Noel didn’t look up.

Hoodie pulled tight, earphones in, a thick book open in front of him. His pencil moved in slow, controlled strokes—like the arrival of a roommate wasn’t a disruption. Just... a minor detail to be tolerated.

Luca dropped his duffel next to the unclaimed bed. "Hey. Guess we’re bunking up."

Nothing.

He tilted his head, trying to get a glimpse of the guy’s face. "You... human? Or part of the furniture?"

The pencil stopped mid-sentence. Noel calmly closed the book—no sigh, no frown—and finally looked up.

"Luca, right?" His voice was flat. Calm. As if he’d read the name off a list earlier that morning.

Luca smirked. "So you do talk. I was about to check for a pulse."

Noel blinked once. "Just don’t touch my side of the room."

Luca flopped onto the edge of the bed with a loud, exaggerated groan. "This is gonna be fun."

Noel had already reopened his book.

[Back to Present]

Luca blinked slowly, eyes stinging more than they should.

He zipped the suitcase.

Then, without saying anything, he glanced once at Noel’s side of the room. The pillow still fluffed.

That ridiculous pen with the cat ears on the desk.

The mug with a chipped lip Noel refused to throw away.

A sock that had somehow escaped packing lay half-crumpled near the desk leg.

He walked to the door, suitcase rolling behind him.

And before turning off the light, he looked back one more time.

"Goodbye, Room 3B," he murmured. His voice cracked at the edge.

At the door, Luca paused.

His hand rested on the frame, eyes sweeping across the quiet room—the bed he’d claimed without care, the desk where Noel used to study late into the night, the little scratch on the wardrobe door they never bothered to fix.

He inhaled... then let the breath out slowly.

This room gave him everything—laughter, fights, sleepless nights, stolen glances... love. But now, even standing in it felt like stepping on glass.

He bent down, zipped the last pocket of his suitcase, and slung the heavy bag over his shoulder.

The wheels of the suitcase rattled softly as he dragged it across the floor.

Noel’s side of the room remained untouched. He didn’t dare look too long.

At the entrance of the dormitory, the gate creaked open under his push.

The sun filtered through the campus trees, casting soft shadows across the walkway.

"Ahh... you’re leaving too," the dorm manager said, stepping out from his small office cubicle beside the gate.

His shirt was slightly rumpled, a pen tucked behind his ear.

Luca nodded, quiet.

The manager’s gaze softened. "It’s about time, huh? I’ve seen a lot of students come and go from this place... You all leave something behind when you do." He smiled faintly. "Take care of yourself, kid."

"Thanks," Luca murmured, reaching into his back pocket.

He placed the room keys in the manager’s open palm—cold, final.

"Take care," Luca added, voice barely above a whisper.

As he turned and walked through the gate, suitcase trailing behind him, the sound of the wheels faded into the morning breeze.

He didn’t look back.

But in his chest, a door stayed ajar—quietly, stubbornly open.