Dear Roommate Please Stop Being Hot [BL]
Chapter 122: One Final Paper

Chapter 122: One Final Paper

The morning light spilled in through the thin curtains, drawing faint golden lines across the tiled floor.

George stood in front of the mirror, his sleeves already rolled, shirt neatly tucked.

The scent of mint lingered faintly from the toothpaste, and his breath came slow—controlled.

He ran a hand through his hair, pausing at the fringe. A few strands refused to fall in place.

With practiced ease, he adjusted it again, this time more carefully. He didn’t want it to look too done. Just clean. Sharp. Like he was ready.

Because he was.

Today was the last exam.

His reflection blinked back at him—calm eyes, pressed collar, a quiet fire under the stillness.

He exhaled, low and steady, then reached for his wristwatch and snapped it on without looking down.

"Alright," he murmured to himself, almost like a nod of permission. "Let’s finish this."

Behind him, his room remained exactly how he’d left it—a water bottle by the desk, his notes stacked neatly by the lamp, his backpack zipped and ready.

He gave his hair one last glance in the mirror, tilted his head, and smiled faintly.

Then he turned and stepped toward the door.

The day was waiting.

As he stepped outside, the morning sun kissed his skin—gentle, not harsh.

The air was crisp, the kind that hinted at something ending. Or maybe something beginning.

His shoes crunched softly on the gravel as he made his way across campus.

The exam halls loomed in the near distance, quiet for now, students trickling in small clusters along the paths.

Up ahead, a familiar figure stood alone beneath one of the shaded walkways—arms folded loosely, head tilted toward the sky.

"Noel?" George called out as he approached, voice low but steady.

Noel turned slowly. His eyes were calm, unreadable, as always.

"You’re alone?" George asked, slowing to a stop beside him.

Noel gave a small nod. "Luca went to get coffee. He’ll be back."

George looked around, then leaned against the pillar beside him. "So you’re just here... contemplating existence?"

Noel smirked faintly. "Something like that."

"You nervous?" George asked, nudging his shoulder lightly.

Noel shrugged, then muttered, "Not really."

"Liar."

Noel glanced at him, the corner of his mouth twitching. "Okay. A little."

A silence passed. Not awkward. Just shared.

George’s gaze drifted, then snapped back. "Your hair’s still a bit damp."

Noel blinked. "Didn’t dry it well."

George grinned. "You always look like you rolled out of a dream. Half-here, half-somewhere else."

A soft breath of laughter escaped Noel, quiet and real. "I’ll take that as a compliment."

"It is," George said, then lowered his voice a little. "Even if it’s annoying how effortless you are."

Noel looked away, pretending to study the trees. "You say that, but you’re the one people orbit around."

George gave a mock scoff. "Please. I barely passed math."

"Still. You make people feel seen."

George didn’t reply at first, surprised by the gentleness of it. Then he offered, "Well... guess that makes two of us."

"Final paper today," he added after a beat, stretching his arms above his head. "Can you believe it?"

Noel’s eyes narrowed slightly in thought. "It came fast."

"Yeah." George’s voice dipped, more serious now. "Feels like we just got here."

A pause settled over them again, not empty—just full of things that didn’t need to be said yet.

The breeze passed through the walkway, rustling the leaves above them. George tilted his head back, eyes closed for a second.

Then, in the distance, a familiar voice called, "I got the good kind!"

Luca was hurrying toward them, holding a drink tray, sleeves pushed up, a grin tugging at his face.

George chuckled under his breath. "There’s our caffeine savior."

Noel didn’t move, but his expression softened—just enough for George to notice.

And as Luca neared, lifting the tray like a trophy, the weight of the day didn’t seem so heavy anymore.

Luca handed over the cups like it was some sacred ritual. "Okay," he said, catching his breath. "Hot. Sweet. The energy we need to survive the next two hours."

George took his cup, smirking. "Survive is right."

Noel accepted his silently, the steam rising between his fingers. He sipped it slowly, the warmth sinking into his chest.

"You two are together, right?" Noel asked, voice quiet.

"Yeah," Luca said, glancing at George. "Same hall. Same time. Last round."

Noel nodded, looking off toward the building behind them.

"Your hall?" George asked.

"That way." Noel motioned toward a different block just beyond the science building.

George frowned slightly. "You walking alone?"

Noel gave a small shrug. "I’m used to it."

But Luca was already shifting beside him. "Wait. We’ll walk you partway. Come on."

The three of them started down the campus path.

Their footsteps were unhurried, the kind of pace that didn’t want the moment to end too soon.

The morning was alive with movement—students weaving past, some laughing too loudly, others clutching notes in one hand and snacks in the other. But in this small trio, things felt quiet.

Emily joined them a few steps later, slipping into the fold with her signature sigh. "If I fail this, I swear I’m going to move to a village and raise goats."

George laughed. "At least goats won’t give you multiple choice."

Luca didn’t miss a beat. "They might headbutt you, though."

Emily snorted "Fair trade."and the sound softened the moment.

They reached the parting spot—where the path forked toward the exam halls.

Noel slowed, then turned to them. "You guys... good luck."

George gave him a solid nod. "You too, man."

Luca reached out and gently bumped shoulders with him. "See you after."

Noel gave the faintest smile before turning. His steps were measured, almost too steady—like someone trying not to stumble over something deeper. Not nerves. Something else.

The three of them watched him go.

Emily sipped her coffee and exhaled. "One last paper."

George looked at the building ahead. "Let’s make it count."

And with that, they turned and continued toward their hall—shoulders brushing, hearts steady, minds focused.

The end was in sight. But none of them knew it would feel this quiet.

The exam hall smelled of ink, tension, and the faint antiseptic tang of floor cleaner. Nerves clung to the air like humidity.

Emily slipped into her seat without a word, flipping her pen in nervous rhythm between her fingers.

Around her, chairs scraped and notebooks shuffled away like they weren’t even allowed to exist in the same room as Professor Kessler.

Luca found himself planted in the very first row, right under the fan, facing the woman herself.

A queen in her domain. Professor Kessler stood rigid at the podium, arms crossed, eyes like twin lasers scanning the room with slow calculation.

No mercy. No peace. The woman didn’t blink.

Luca adjusted in his seat, already regretting every skipped revision session. The exam paper was face-down on his desk like a silent threat.

Behind him, George took his seat, catching a glimpse of Luca’s back. He smirked quietly to himself. "Poor guy," he whispered under his breath.

Professor Kessler’s voice cut through the air like a sword. "Silence."

Even the fan seemed to hum softer.

She walked down the aisle, slow and deliberate, the sound of her heels echoing like a countdown to judgment. Her eyes lingered on each student as if daring them to breathe wrong.

George straightened his spine.

Emily rubbed her temple.

Luca flipped the paper over and sighed.

Question one looked like it came straight from the gates of academic hell.

He bit his lip, leaned over the paper, and began writing.

Minutes dragged into an hour. Pens scratched. Throats cleared. But no one dared speak. Kessler stood like a statue in front of the board, arms crossed, eyes never blinking.

Every time Luca looked up, there she was—watching him.

He almost forgot what the question was.

Behind him, George shifted again. He peeked over Luca’s shoulder for a second, not to cheat, just to check if he was still breathing.

Finally, the clock struck.

"Time’s up," Kessler announced. "Pens down. Pass your scripts forward."

Luca slumped in his seat. Emily let out a soft groan. George leaned back and stretched like he’d aged ten years.

Kessler moved down the rows like a hawk, collecting the answer sheets one by one with unspoken judgment. When she reached the front, Luca handed his over and sat up straight.

Her gaze lingered on him for half a second.

Then she turned.

George stood up just as she was heading out.

"It’s over," he said, too loud, too relieved.

Kessler paused. Slowly, she turned her head and gave him a look—dry, unimpressed, as if she’d mentally sentenced him to summer school.

Emily laughed under her breath and grabbed George’s arm. "Come on," she whispered, "before she buries you alive."

Luca joined them at the door, stretching his arms over his head. "She watched me the entire time."

Emily grinned. "That’s what you get for sitting under her nose."

George nodded solemnly. "That’s like volunteering for war."

"She blinked once, George. I counted," Luca muttered, shaking his head.

Emily laughed again, louder this time. "You survived, Luca. You deserve a parade."

They stepped into the corridor together, the sun warming their skin, the weight finally slipping off their shoulders.

It was done.

The last exam.

As they walked down the steps, teasing Luca in unison, something lifted—not just exam stress, but the quiet ache of a Chapter closing. Whatever came next, they’d carry this day with them.

And for now, that was enough.