Dear Roommate Please Stop Being Hot [BL]-Chapter 234: You Got Under My Skin

The apartment was still half-dark when Noel’s eyes opened, the pale gray of early morning seeping through the curtains.

He blinked slowly, disoriented for a moment, before the weight of last night settled back over him like a heavy blanket.

He turned his head.

Luca was still asleep beside him, facing the wall, one arm tucked beneath the pillow.

His breathing was slow and even, but there was a tightness to his shoulders even in sleep—like he couldn’t fully let go.

Noel’s chest ached.

He slipped out of bed carefully, bare feet silent against the cool floor.

The cat stirred at the foot of the bed, blinking up at him lazily before stretching and hopping down to follow.

The kitchen was quiet, bathed in soft morning light.

Noel moved carefully, opening the fridge and pulling out the two containers from last night—still sitting there, untouched, like a quiet accusation.

He stared at them for a moment, then set them on the counter.

*I messed up.*

He didn’t need Luca to say it.

He could feel it in the silence, in the way Luca had turned away from him, in the space between them that had felt impossible to cross.

Noel opened the first container.

The food was cold, congealed slightly, but still salvageable.

He grabbed a pan, set it on the stove, and started reheating it slowly, stirring gently so it wouldn’t burn.

The cat meowed softly, winding between his legs.

"I know," Noel murmured. "I should’ve texted him back."

The cat didn’t answer, just flicked its tail and sat down to watch.

Noel plated the food carefully—Luca’s portion first, then his own.

He set them on the table, side by side, just like they’d been last night.

But this time, the steam rose fresh and warm.

He stood there for a moment, staring at the two plates, then glanced back toward the bedroom.

*Should I wake him?*

Before he could decide, he heard the soft creak of the bedroom door.

Luca appeared in the hallway, hair messy, eyes still heavy with sleep.

He was wearing an old shirt and sweatpants, looking rumpled and tired and... small, somehow.

He stopped when he saw Noel standing in the kitchen.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then Luca’s gaze dropped to the table—the two plates, the rising steam, the quiet gesture that said more than words could.

His expression softened, just slightly.

"You didn’t have to do that," Luca said quietly.

"I know," Noel replied, just as softly. "But I wanted to."

Luca’s throat worked, like he was swallowing something down.

Then he stepped forward, moving slowly toward the table.

He sat down without a word, picking up his chopsticks.

Noel joined him, settling into the chair across from him.

They ate in silence for a while—not the heavy, suffocating silence of last night, but something gentler.

Fragile, maybe, but not broken.

After a few bites, Luca spoke, voice low. "You didn’t have to wait up for me last night either."

Noel paused, chopsticks hovering. "I wasn’t waiting up. I just... got home late."

"I meant me," Luca said, still not looking at him. "You didn’t have to feel guilty about the food. It’s not a big deal."

"It felt like a big deal," Noel said quietly.

Luca finally looked up, meeting his eyes.

There was something unguarded there—hurt, yes, but also something softer. "I just... I wanted to eat with you. That’s all."

Noel’s chest tightened. "I’m sorry."

"Don’t apologize for working," Luca said, shaking his head. "That’s not fair to you."

"Then don’t pretend you’re fine when you’re not," Noel countered gently.

That stopped Luca short.

His jaw worked for a moment, like he was trying to find the right words, then he exhaled and looked away. "I don’t want to be the kind of person who makes your job harder."

"You’re not," Noel said firmly. "Luca, you’re not."

Luca’s fingers tightened slightly around his chopsticks. "It feels like I am."

Noel reached across the table, his hand hovering for a moment before resting lightly over Luca’s. "You’re not. I just... I should’ve checked my phone. I should’ve told you I wasn’t coming home for dinner."

Luca’s eyes dropped to their hands, the warmth of Noel’s fingers grounding him. "Yeah," he said softly. "You should’ve."

"I will next time," Noel promised. "I mean it."

Luca nodded slowly, the tension in his shoulders finally easing. "Okay."

They finished breakfast in quieter, easier silence—this time, the kind that felt like healing instead of distance.

When they were done, Luca stood and carried the plates to the sink.

Noel followed, standing beside him, drying as Luca washed.

"Thank you," Luca said after a moment, voice barely above a whisper. "For the food. For... trying."

Noel smiled faintly. "Always."

The cat meowed from the floor, demanding attention.

Luca glanced down, then huffed a quiet laugh. "Even he’s trying to make us feel better."

"Smart cat," Noel murmured.

Luca’s lips curved—small, but real.

And for the first time since last night, the apartment felt like home again.

The morning had passed smoothly enough—reports filed, emails sent, the usual hum of the third floor settling into its rhythm.

Luca was at his desk, reviewing the latest client feedback with Bella, when Georgia’s door opened.

"Luca," she called, folder in hand. "I need you to run this up to Mr. Max. Fourth floor, International Division."

Luca straightened, already reaching for the folder. "Sure. What is it?"

"Revised export agreements," Georgia said, handing it over. "He needs it before his two o’clock meeting. Don’t leave it with anyone else—hand it to him directly."

"Got it boss," Luca said, tucking the folder under his arm.

Bella glanced up, smirking faintly. "Want company?"

"I’m good," Luca replied, already moving toward the elevator. "Be right back."

The elevator hummed softly as it climbed.

Luca leaned against the wall, folder in hand, mind wandering.

He thought about breakfast—how Noel had quietly reheated the food, how they’d eaten together in that careful, fragile silence.

It had felt... better. Not perfect, but better.

The elevator dinged.

Fourth floor.

The doors slid open, and Luca stepped out into the polished, glass-walled space of the International Division.

It was quieter here—more serious, more expensive-looking.

The kind of place where every conversation felt like it mattered.

He walked down the corridor, eyes scanning the nameplates on the glass doors until he found it: **Mr. Max - Senior Manager, International Operations.**

The door was half-open.

Luca raised his hand to knock—

And froze.

Through the glass, he saw them.

Noel stood near the window, arms crossed loosely, his posture professional but relaxed.

Mr. Max stood a few feet away, hands in his pockets, facing him.

The late afternoon light streamed through the glass behind them, casting everything in a soft, golden glow.

Max’s expression was different from usual—no polished smile, no easy confidence. Just... quiet. Vulnerable, almost.

Luca’s hand lowered slowly.

He couldn’t hear everything—the glass muffled the words—but Max’s voice carried just enough.

"You know," Max began, his gaze steady on Noel, "when I first saw you during the interview, most of the interns could barely speak. But you—" He paused, a faint, almost self-mocking smile crossing his face. "You stood there like you belonged. Determined. Focused. I admired that."

Luca’s breath caught.

Max took a step closer, his voice dropping lower, softer. "It wasn’t just your work ethic, Noel. You... you got under my skin."

Luca’s chest tightened, his pulse suddenly too loud in his ears.

"I’ve tried to ignore it," Max continued, his tone raw now, stripped of its usual polish. "But I can’t anymore."

The world seemed to tilt.

Luca’s grip on the folder tightened until the edges crumpled slightly under his fingers.

He didn’t wait to hear more.

He couldn’t.

He turned sharply, walking away from the door—fast, but not running.

His footsteps echoed too loudly in the empty hallway, his heart pounding against his ribs like it was trying to escape.

*He told him. Max told him.*

Luca’s mind raced, replaying the words over and over, each repetition twisting the knife a little deeper.

*"You got under my skin."*

*"I can’t ignore it anymore."*

He reached Jack’s desk, barely registering the assistant’s surprised look as he dropped the folder onto the surface with more force than necessary.

"For Mr. Max," Luca said, voice tight but controlled. "Georgia said it’s urgent. Two o’clock meeting."

Jack blinked. "Oh—sure, I’ll get it to him right away."

Luca nodded once, already turning away, already moving toward the elevator.

His hands were shaking.

He shoved them into his pockets, jaw clenched so hard his teeth ached.

The elevator doors opened.

He stepped inside, pressed the button for the third floor, and leaned back against the wall as the doors slid shut.

The moment he was alone, his breath came out in a shaky exhale.

*What did Noel say?*

He didn’t know.

He’d left before he could hear.

And that not-knowing felt worse than anything.

Back in Max’s office, the silence stretched long and heavy.

Noel hadn’t moved.

His arms were still crossed, his expression calm but distant—like he was standing on the other side of a line Max couldn’t cross.

Finally, Noel spoke, his voice quiet but steady. "I wasn’t confident that day because I believed in myself."

Max’s eyes flickered with something—hope, maybe, or fear of what was coming next.

Noel’s gaze softened, but it was the kind of softness that came with finality. "It was because someone believed in me first."

Max’s expression shifted—just slightly, but enough.

Noel stepped forward, not close enough to touch, but close enough to be heard clearly. "That’s why I can’t let my heart wander," he said gently. "It already belongs somewhere."

The words landed quietly, but they hit like a door closing.

Max exhaled slowly, his shoulders dropping just a fraction.

For a moment, he looked away, staring out the window at the city below.

Then he smiled—small, sad, but genuine. "Lucky person," he murmured, almost to himself.

Noel offered a small, apologetic smile. "I’m the lucky one."

Max turned back toward the window, hands still in his pockets, shoulders tight. "I appreciate your honesty," he said quietly. "And I’m sorry if I made things uncomfortable."

"I should get back to work," Noel said softly.

Max nodded, composing himself with the ease of someone who’d had years of practice. "Of course. Thank you, Noel. For everything."

Noel paused at the door, glancing back once. "Thank you, sir. For the opportunity. I’ve learned a lot."

And then he was gone.

Max stood alone in his office, hands still in his pockets, staring at the empty doorway.

He let out a quiet breath and turned back to the window.

"Yeah," he said to no one. "Lucky person."

Back on the third floor:

Luca sat at his desk, staring blankly at his screen.

His hands were still trembling slightly, hidden beneath the desk where no one could see.

Bella glanced over. "You okay? You look like you saw a ghost."

"I’m fine," Luca said automatically.

She didn’t look convinced, but she let it go.

And so the workday crawled on, Luca forcing himself to focus even as his mind kept drifting back to the office.

He pushed through hour after hour, all the way into the deeper stretch of evening, but the distraction never loosened its grip.

Luca’s phone buzzed.

Noel:Just finished up. Meet you in the lobby at 6?

Luca stared at the message for a long time.

Then he typed back:

Luca:Yeah. See you then.

He set the phone down, jaw tight, chest aching.

"You got under my skin."

The words echoed.

And Luca had no idea what Noel had said in return.