Dear Roommate Please Stop Being Hot [BL]-Chapter 91: Say It, and Stay

The sun had dipped lower now, casting golden ribbons across the garden walkways.

The breeze was soft, warm, and carried the scent of fresh earth and late-summer blooms.

A few students wandered nearby, sprawled across benches or tucked under trees, but the far end of the garden — their spot — was quiet.

Emily spotted her instantly.

Lina sat with one knee drawn up on the wooden bench, tablet in hand, stylus tapping slowly against the screen.

The light caught her face in soft tones — a quiet concentration there, brows slightly knit, lower lip caught just faintly between her teeth.

Emily’s steps slowed, her heart doing that gentle, ridiculous skip.

Lina looked up before she could say anything.

"You’re late," Lina said softly, though her smile gave her away.

Emily dropped her bag onto the bench and collapsed beside her. "The world’s most chaotic lovebirds held me hostage."

Lina turned to her, amused. "Noel and Luca?"

Emily let her head fall against Lina’s shoulder. "Mm-hmm. They’re sickening now. Hand-holding. Whispering. Glowing. It’s romantic. I hate it."

Lina chuckled under her breath, brushing Emily’s hair back with a lazy affection. "You’re not jealous, are you?"

Emily tilted her face up. "Why would I be? I’ve got you."

Lina raised a brow. "That’s dangerously close to cheesy."

"You like it."

Lina didn’t argue.

Instead, she shifted her tablet into her lap and turned slightly toward her, her fingers trailing along Emily’s wrist. "So... did you eat?"

"Not really."

"I was going to grab something in a bit," Lina said, gaze gentle. "We could go together."

Emily leaned in a little closer. "You sure? I don’t want to ruin your sketch mood."

"You showing up is the mood."

Emily smirked, then tucked her head lightly into the crook of Lina’s neck.

The garden buzzed softly around them — bees somewhere distant, birds rustling in trees — but here, in this quiet slice of golden hour, time slowed down.

Neither of them rushed to speak again.

They didn’t need to.

The evening glowed in a hush of gold and green, sunlight filtering through the trees in soft, scattered patterns.

A breeze lifted Lina’s curly hair gently, brushing it across Emily’s cheek, but neither of them moved away.

Emily’s head rested against Lina’s shoulder now, quiet and still.

"Do you remember the first time we came here?" Lina asked, voice low.

Emily hummed. "You were sketching the fountain. I was pretending to read."

"You were definitely not reading," Lina smiled, eyes half-lidded.

"I was trying to," Emily grinned. "But then you looked up at me."

Lina tilted her head slightly, brushing her nose against Emily’s hair. "And you turned red."

"You smirked."

"I wasn’t expecting to catch you staring."

"You weren’t supposed to catch me," Emily murmured, her tone playful but faintly shy.

They fell into silence again, but it was a good silence — full of shared memory, small smiles, the softness that comes when two people have finally stopped dancing around their feelings.

Lina’s hand found Emily’s, their fingers tangling slowly — with intention.

"I didn’t think you’d say yes," Lina whispered after a moment. "That day at the café garden, when I said I feel different when I’m with you,"

Emily pulled back just enough to meet her eyes. "Why?"

"Because you always kept things light. Sarcasm. Deflection. You’re good at making it seem like you don’t feel things deeply."

Emily exhaled through her nose, her voice quieter. "I do. I just... didn’t know if I should."

Lina’s fingers tightened around hers. "I’m glad you did."

Their faces were close now — close enough to share the same breath.

"Are you gonna kiss me or just keep saying romantic things like we’re in a slow-burn movie?" Emily asked, voice low but teasing.

Lina leaned in. "Slow-burn’s over."

The kiss was gentle — warm and sure, like a sentence finally completed. Emily’s hand slid to Lina’s neck, pulling her closer, while Lina’s thumb brushed softly across her cheek.

When they pulled back, their foreheads rested together, the world still hazy around them.

"I like us like this," Emily murmured.

"So do I," Lina said.

A pair of birds fluttered nearby, rustling the hedge behind them. The sun dipped lower.

And still, they stayed — tangled fingers, soft laughter, lips touching now and then — like the garden itself had decided to pause time just for them.

As golden hour surrendered to dusk, across campus — in a quieter, softer corner — another story was quietly unfolding beneath the velvet sky.

Campus lights glowed like pearls strung along the pathways, casting soft halos across the stone walkways and dancing in puddles from the earlier sprinklers.

Luca and Noel stood at the edge of the dorm entrance, light jackets thrown over the day’s clothes.

Noel tugged gently at Luca’s sleeve.

"Let’s go for a walk."

Luca hesitated, keys in one hand. "Are you sure? You’ve been in bed all day."

"I just... want some air," Noel said, voice soft. "I don’t want to go straight from sleep to lecture to sleep again."

Luca stepped closer, placing the back of his hand lightly on Noel’s forehead.

Still a bit warm.

"Let me check your fever first," he said, brow furrowed.

Noel stood still, letting him.

Luca’s fingers brushed across his skin with the gentleness of someone holding something fragile. His gaze searched, then softened.

"You’re warm... but not burning," Luca murmured. "We’ll keep it short, okay?"

Noel gave a nod, something grateful flickering in his eyes.

They set off.

The sidewalk was damp in places, the air crisp but kind. Luca walked a little slower than usual — letting Noel set the pace, their hands grazing now and then until they finally just... stayed linked.

Noel breathed it in like he hadn’t realized how much he needed it. The quiet. The cool night. The weight of someone beside him without the pressure of conversation.

For a while, they didn’t talk.

They passed the old amphitheater steps where music students sometimes rehearsed.

The little pond with lily pads now asleep. A small bronze statue of a poet someone had dressed in a scarf.

Then—

"I missed you," Noel said.

Luca looked at him. "Even when I was right beside you.?"

Noel’s lips tugged slightly. "Especially then."

Luca nodded, his thumb brushing over Noel’s knuckles.

Noel winced a little. "I didn’t mean it. That day. I didn’t even realize how much it would hurt until I saw your face."

"I missed you too," luca said. "Even before you told me to go."

They stopped under a tree wrapped in fairy lights — little golden glows flickering like stars caught in branches.

Luca turned to him fully. "I know. I just... I didn’t want to push. I’ve never wanted to push you into anything."

"You didn’t," Noel said. He looked up at him, face soft in the glow. "You waited. Even when I didn’t know how to say things."

"We’re still learning," Luca said quietly, as though naming the truth made it a promise.

"I’m still scared," Noel admitted.

"I’ll walk with you," Luca whispered. "Even when it’s scary."

Noel’s chest tugged.

And there, under the lights, he leaned in — their lips meeting in a kiss that was slower, steadier than the one in the dorm. Less fevered. More sure. Like something finally fitting into place.

When they parted, their foreheads stayed close, breath warm between them.

"I’m not going anywhere," Luca said.

"I won’t let you," Noel replied, quiet but firm.

They walked the rest of the path with their hands clasped, steps slower than before, as if neither of them wanted the night — or this fragile, perfect calm — to end.

They wandered a little farther off the path, past the dim-lit greenhouse and the empty art hall courtyard.

The world had hushed — no more voices, just the rustle of leaves overhead and the faint chirp of crickets hiding in the grass.

Then they reached it.

A small wooden bench under a willow tree near the back of campus — one they’d passed before, but never stopped at. Tonight, it felt different. Still. Safe.

Luca sat first, legs slightly apart, elbows on his knees.

Noel followed, slower — not out of hesitation, just... wanting to hold the moment.

He sat close, their knees brushing. Then closer, until his head gently rested against Luca’s shoulder.

The bench creaked softly beneath them.

For a long beat, they didn’t speak.

"I used to come here alone," he said after a moment. "When I first got to campus. Before I made any friends."

Luca glanced sideways, listening.

"It felt easier to sit in the dark than try to say the right things to people I didn’t know."

Luca didn’t interrupt.

"I think I was scared," Noel added. "Of how much space I take up. Of how... boring I am compared to everyone else."

"You’re not boring," Luca said gently.

"I know," Noel said. Then paused. "I mean, I’m starting to know."

Luca’s smile was small, but it reached his eyes. "You’re intense. Thoughtful. Stubborn. And very, very easy to fall for."

Noel turned to him slowly. "You did?"

Luca nodded. "The first week you rolled your eyes at me."

"I was trying to get you to shut up."

"That didn’t work."

Noel laughed quietly. "No. It didn’t."

"I meant what I said earlier," luca murmured. "About wanting everything. No expiration dates."

Noel leaned further into him, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

"That’s why I said a week," Noel whispered. "Because I didn’t want to admit how much I wanted more. And I was terrified that if I asked, you’d walk away."

"You have me," Luca said simply. "All of me. No expiry date."

Noel’s voice came softer now. "Then stay with me. Not just tonight. Not just until the end of the semester. Just... stay."

Luca’s thumb brushed his hand again, over and over.

"I’m not walking anywhere," he said. "Not now. Not after knowing how it feels to fall asleep next to you."

The night buzzed with distant crickets. Laughter echoed faintly from another pathway. But around them, it felt still — safe.

"I used to walk this way alone," Luca murmured, voice soft against the hush. "Back before i moved in. I use to passed this bench but never stopped."

Noel tilted his head a little. "Why not?"

"I don’t know. Maybe it didn’t feel like it meant anything back then."

Noel’s fingers found his again, a quiet motion, but strong.

"And now?"

Luca smiled faintly. "Now it’s my favorite bench on campus."

Noel let out a soft laugh under his breath, chest rising and falling against Luca’s arm. "I like you like this."

"Like what?"

"Warm. Soft. Honest."

"I’m always honest with you."

"I know," Noel said, squeezing his hand. "That’s the scariest part. And the best part."

A pause.

Luca turned his head, kissing the top of Noel’s hair gently. "What are you thinking?"

"That I don’t want to go back yet."

"We don’t have to," Luca said, pulling his jacket slightly around Noel’s shoulders. "Not until you’re ready."

They stayed on that bench, hands woven tight, hearts finally still. The willow branches whispered above them, and the stars blinked down, blessing something new — fragile but true.

Not just love. Not just warmth.

But the feeling of home — built gently, night by night, with every truth said aloud.

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