Dear Roommate Please Stop Being Hot [BL]
Chapter 119: Exam Week: A Love Letter in Silences

Chapter 119: Exam Week: A Love Letter in Silences

By the time they reached the building, Noel keyed in the door, and Luca trailed in behind.

Inside, the room felt still — not cold, just undisturbed. A faint scent of paper and laundry hung in the air.

Luca dropped his keys onto the desk and slipped out of his hoodie. "You done for the night?" he asked as he stretched a little, back arching, shoulders rolling loose.

"Almost," Noel replied, setting his phone down. "Just need to review a few more slides before bed."

Luca moved toward the bed, flopping onto it without ceremony. "You work too much."

"And you nap too much," Noel shot back lightly, pulling out his laptop and plugging it in.

Luca propped his head on his elbow, watching him with an easy grin. "Balance."

Noel didn’t answer that, but his lips twitched a little.

A few minutes passed. Noel was seated, scrolling through his slides. Luca laid quietly, idly scrolling his own phone, occasionally glancing up.

"You want music?" Luca asked eventually.

"If it’s not distracting."

Luca opened a playlist and let something mellow play low — soft acoustic, just enough to fill the space without pulling focus.

He watched Noel from where he lay — the way the screen reflected in his glasses, the slight crease between his brows when he focused.

He didn’t say anything, just watched for a little while longer.

Noel eventually noticed.

He turned a little in his seat. "What?"

"Nothing," Luca said. "You look peaceful when you’re concentrating."

Noel rolled his eyes, but he smiled faintly, just a little. "You’re weird."

Luca grinned, eyes soft. "So we’re you."

The night slipped by gently in the boys’ room. Noel eventually closed his laptop, rubbed his eyes, and climbed into bed beside Luca, who had already dozed off again, limbs loose and easy in sleep.

A soft breeze moved through the half-open window, carrying the faint hum of campus life winding down.

No words needed. Just the quiet rhythm of breath and shared space.

Elsewhere, across campus —

Lina sat cross-legged on her bed, a thick textbook balanced against her thigh, highlighter in hand.

Her lamp cast a warm, focused glow, pooling on the pages and softening the corners of the room.

Emily sat at the desk, posture slightly hunched, one hand supporting her chin as she flipped through her notebook.

Her brows furrowed occasionally as she traced a line of notes, lips moving soundlessly in repetition.

The room was calm, filled only with the low sound of pages turning, pens scratching, and the occasional sigh.

A quiet pact between them — study first, everything else later.

Lina leaned back slightly, eyes still on her book. "How far did you get in that Chapter?"

Emily glanced up. "Almost done with the case study part. You?"

"Still on the second example. It’s dense."

Emily gave a small smile. "It always is with this course."

Silence settled again. Not awkward — just focused. Comfortable.

Time passed like that, slow and steady, both of them lost in their notes, the world outside fading while their pens danced across paper.

Lina let out a soft breath as she closed her book for a moment, leaning her head back against the wall. "I think my brain’s starting to fog."

Emily didn’t look up, but a hint of a smile tugged at her lips. "That’s usually the cue to stop."

Lina tilted her head, watching her. "You done?"

"Almost," Emily murmured, flipping to the final page. "Just want to reread this part."

Lina reached for her water bottle and took a sip, her eyes drifting toward the window.

The sky outside was dark now, campus lights casting quiet glows across the buildings.

Somewhere in the distance, the faint murmur of voices and a closing door reminded them the world hadn’t stopped — it had only slowed.

Emily finally shut her notebook and stretched with a soft groan. "Alright. That’s enough productivity for one night."

Lina chuckled. "You say that like you didn’t just finish everything."

"I’m trying to be humble," Emily replied with a grin, then stood and walked over, leaning briefly against the bed frame. "You’re doing good, you know. Even if it feels slow."

Lina looked up at her, a quiet warmth flickering in her eyes. "Thanks. That helps."

A beat passed.

Then Emily gave her a gentle nudge with her elbow. "Alright, I’m heading back before I fall asleep right here."

Lina nodded and stood, walking her to the door. "Text me when you get back."

"I will," Emily said softly, pulling the door open.

Their eyes met for a brief moment — calm, familiar — before Emily gave a small wave and disappeared down the hallway.

Lina closed the door gently behind her, the quiet clicking into place like a final note.

She turned off the desk lamp, folded her notes, and slipped under the covers, eyes still lingering on the ceiling as the room dimmed to silence.

Outside, the night had fully settled — soft and deep, wrapping around the dorm like a blanket.

The morning sun filtered in through the curtain edges, soft and pale.

Their shared room carried the scent of warm soap and light cologne — a quiet buzz of nerves hanging in the air like static.

Luca zipped up his bag, slinging it over his shoulder. "You sure you have your calculator?"

Noel patted his pocket, nodding. "Yeah. And my extra pen. You?"

"Two pens, pencil, eraser. I’m set," Luca replied, checking his phone. "We still have thirty minutes."

They stood there for a second, both ready, both dressed — Luca in his casual black hoodie and jeans, Noel in a navy sweatshirt, neat and understated.

A quiet moment passed as they each double-checked their things again, not because they forgot anything — but because it helped keep the nerves in check.

Noel glanced at Luca. "We’re not in the same hall, right?"

"Nope," Luca confirmed. "Mine’s Block F, second floor. Yours?"

"Block B," Noel said. "Ground floor."

Luca exhaled slowly, then offered a light shrug. "At least it starts at the same time. We can walk together till the split."

"Yeah," Noel murmured, then paused, eyes on Luca. "How are you feeling?"

Luca hesitated, then half-smiled. "Little jittery. But I reviewed enough last night. I’ll survive."

"Same here." Noel slipped his phone into his pocket. "Let’s just get through today."

They left the room together — not rushed, not overly tense, just quiet in that way exam mornings often were. The kind of quiet that didn’t need words, just presence.

As they walked through the corridor, the sounds of other students echoed lightly — footsteps, door latches, a few sleepy murmurs and zippers.

Outside, the campus was slowly coming alive, bikes rattling by, a few scattered students with notes in hand.

Reaching the path where they’d have to split, Luca stopped.

"You’ll be fine," he said, looking at Noel.

"You too," Noel answered, giving him a small nod, almost a smile.

Luca leaned a bit closer. "Don’t overthink. Just write."

Noel chuckled under his breath. "You sound like my lecturer."

"I sound wise," Luca corrected, eyes crinkling slightly.

A brief beat passed. Then they turned, heading off in separate directions — calm steps, hearts a little louder than usual.

The exam hall had become a second home—cold, quiet, and merciless.

It’s Day Three

Rows of desks stretched evenly across the high-ceilinged room, each one an island of stress and graphite.

The air smelled faintly of sanitizer and dry paper. The fans above clicked softly, stirring the edges of the exam scripts.

Luca settled into his seat, third row from the back. The desk felt colder than it should have.

He exhaled slowly, trying to steady the tremor in his fingers as he arranged his pens.

Somewhere halfway through the essay section, his thoughts drifted—to Noel. A different hall, same time. Was he okay?Did he start? Luca blinked, then forced himself back to the page. Focus. Later.

To his right, Emily tightened her ponytail and glanced briefly at him. "Paper three," she muttered under her breath.

George leaned forward from the next desk, whispering dramatically, "If I survive this one, I’m marrying my calculator."

Luca smiled faintly, shaking his head.

The invigilator’s voice echoed across the hall. "Phones off. Bags under the desk. Your time starts... now."

Pens scratched. Pages flipped. The silence roared.

Luca’s eyes darted to the wall clock, then back to the page. The numbers felt familiar, but slower to come.

Midway through the second section, his thoughts threatened to spiral—but somewhere in the noise of his head, he remembered Noel’s words from last night:

"Don’t panic. One question at a time. And breathe."

He had said it while handing Luca a bottle of water and his highlighted notes, as if that would magically make quadratic inequalities less cruel.

Somehow, it helped.

Luca pressed on.

Outside, the sun was a smear of pale gold. Inside, only scribbles and the occasional cough broke the silence.

Day Four to Day Six blurred like fog.

Mornings began with alarms that felt too soon, the snooze button slapped more than once.

Luca often sat up on the edge of the bed in silence before standing.

Noel, already brushing his hair or ironing his shirt, would glance over and say nothing—but hand him a water bottle.

"Read a bit before breakfast," Noel said softly one morning, nudging a small summary printout onto Luca’s desk. "Just ten minutes."

And Luca did. Sometimes just to feel the gentle pride in Noel’s quiet smile.

By Day Five, they were machines—eat, revise, test, repeat. Noel barely spoke unless it was about formulas or forgotten topics.

Even the strongest coffee couldn’t keep Luca from yawning during revision.

Their room looked like a mind unraveling—notes fanned out like wings, pens scattered like thoughts, coffee stains marking the hours.

Luca sometimes walked into their room to find noel asleep, cheek pressed to open pages, pen still in hand.

He left him sleeping, gently draping a blanket over his shoulders before settling in with his own notes—keeping watch in silence.

They didn’t talk much. But the silences grew warm.

But still—he kept pace. He made space. He kept pushing Luca to keep reading, keep going, keep believing.

A left-behind cup of coffee on the desk. A quiet glance before leaving. A hand brushing the doorframe a moment too long.

And in the background—Emily and George, still in Luca’s hall.

George sometimes passed Luca sweets before the exam, muttering, "For brain glucose or whatever."

Emily rolled her eyes, but took one too.

The invigilators were all the same. Stern, tired, and immune to the restless sighs of desperate students.

Their footsteps echoed through the halls, a haunting rhythm to exam week.

Day Six

Another morning. Another paper. Another full hall.

Luca sat, pen tapping lightly against his thigh. Emily looked worn but composed. George had both elbows on the desk, muttering a countdown under his breath.

The room settled. The paper was passed out. The clock ticked.

Time vanished.

Luca stared at the final question. His hand ached. His brain was a fog of formulas and faint memories. "One more step," he thought. "Just write. Then breathe."

Then the last word was written, the final bubble shaded in—and the invigilator called, "Pens down."

George shot upright in his seat.

"DONE!" he shouted, arms in the air like he’d scored a goal. "One more to go, people!"

Heads snapped around.

The entire hall turned to look at him—some snickering, some groaning.

Luca and Emily both turned to glare at him in perfect sync, unimpressed.

George blinked innocently. "What?"

Emily muttered, "Sit down, Shakespeare."

Luca rubbed his temples. "Drama king."

George slumped back into his seat, grinning like he’d just won something. "What? We all need hope."

But somewhere behind their tired eyes, a small smile crept in.

Tomorrow—it would be the last one.