Dear Roommate Please Stop Being Hot [BL]-Chapter 289: Clearing the Air

Monday afternoon, Emily was in the library’s third floor her preferred study spot when she needed genuine quiet, not the performative studying that happened on lower floors.

She’d been working on her capstone revisions for two hours, making minimal progress, her mind persistently drifting back to Saturday’s gallery incident.

Alex’s words kept replaying: Better than someone who let her go because work was more important.

The worst part was how accurate they felt.

She was highlighting a passage for the third time when someone cleared their throat nearby.

Alex stood a few feet away, hands in his pockets, looking decidedly uncomfortable.

"Hey," he said quietly. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Emily’s first instinct was defensiveness—shoulders tensing, preparing for round two of whatever argument they’d started. But something in his expression stopped her.

"Okay."

He pulled out the chair across from her, sitting but maintaining distance, not invading her space.

For a moment, neither spoke. The library’s quiet felt heavy rather than peaceful.

"I shouldn’t have said what I said," Alex started, looking at his hands rather than her face. "At the gallery. About you letting her go. That was out of line."

Emily had prepared multiple responses to various scenarios—defensive, dismissive, angry. She hadn’t prepared for simple honesty.

"Oh."

"I was being competitive and petty and I took it too far." He finally looked up, meeting her eyes. "You didn’t deserve that. Whatever happened between you and Lina, whatever choices were made—that’s between you two. Not my place to weaponize it."

"You weren’t entirely wrong," Emily said after a moment, surprising herself with the admission. "I did prioritize work. I did let the relationship deteriorate. Hearing it out loud just..."

"Hurt."

"Yeah." She nodded.

"I’m still sorry. For saying it like that. In public. Using it as ammunition." Alex ran a hand through his hair. "Truth is, I was jealous."

"Of what?" Emily ask.

"That you had time with her I didn’t. That you know parts of her story I’m just learning. That even though you’re not together anymore, you share history I can’t access." He shrugged, the gesture somehow making him look younger. "Jealousy makes people mean."

Emily considered this, processing not just his words but the vulnerability beneath them.

"I was jealous too," she admitted. "Watching you two work together. How easy it looked. How she laughs with you the way she used to laugh with me before everything got complicated."

"It’s not always easy."

"But it’s happening. Present tense. And I’m stuck in past tense, watching from outside."

They sat in that acknowledgment for a moment—two people recognizing parallel feelings without trying to fix or dismiss them.

"I don’t know what’s happening with me and Lina," Alex said eventually. "If anything’s happening. We’re friends. We work well together. Maybe that’s all it is."

"Or maybe it’s more."

"Maybe."

"Would that bother you? Me being bothered if it became more?"

"Honestly? Yeah. But not in a way that would stop me. Just in a way that would make me feel guilty about being happy."

"That’s surprisingly honest."

"I’m tired of not being honest. Spent too long pretending I didn’t have feelings when I did. Not doing that anymore."

Emily closed her textbook, giving him her full attention. "For what it’s worth, I don’t want to be the person who makes you feel guilty for being happy. Even if it hurts. Even if I wish things had gone differently with me and Lina."

"That’s mature of you."

"I’m trying. Doesn’t always work but I’m trying." Emily said.

"That’s all anyone can do."

Another pause, this one less uncomfortable than contemplative.

"So where does this leave us?" Emily asked.

"Somewhere between strangers and friends? People who care about the same person and are trying not to be assholes about it?"

"That’s a very specific category."

"We’re in a very specific situation."

Emily smiled slightly—small but genuine. "I accept your apology. And I’m sorry too. For being territorial about knowledge of her work. For acting like past intimacy gives me ownership of understanding her. That was unfair."

"Accepted." Alex said.

"Are we okay now?"

"I think so. Or at least better than we were."

"I’ll take better."

Alex stood, hesitating briefly before extending his hand. "Friends? Or at least friendly?"

Emily shook it, the gesture oddly formal but appropriate. "Friendly. Let’s start there."

"Deal."

After he left, Emily sat alone with her textbook and her thoughts, feeling lighter than she had since Saturday.

The situation wasn’t resolved. Her feelings about Lina weren’t suddenly gone.

The awkwardness of watching someone else potentially build what she’d lost wouldn’t disappear overnight.

But at least the air was clearer. At least they’d acknowledged the complexity honestly instead of letting resentment fester into something worse.

Small progress. But progress nonetheless.

She returned to her capstone with slightly better focus, the words on the page finally making sense instead of blurring together.

Outside the library windows, campus moved through its Monday afternoon rhythm—students rushing between classes, the semester winding toward its inevitable conclusion.

Three more weeks. Then defense presentations. Then finals. Then graduation. Then whatever came after.

One thing at a time.

She could manage that.

That evening, Luca came home to find Noel at his desk, surprisingly relaxed for someone usually stressed about work.

"You look calm," Luca observed, dropping his bag.

"Defense is scheduled. Capstone is approved. For the first time in months, I actually know what I’m supposed to be doing."

"Character development."

"Exhaustion acceptance. There’s a difference."

"Both valid."

Luca moved behind him, hands settling on his shoulders, feeling the tension that lived there permanently during semester. "How was your day?"

"Productive. Yours?"

"Long. George mentioned seeing Alex and Emily actually having a civil conversation in the library. Apparently there was handshaking involved."

"Handshaking?"

"His words. Said it looked very formal and slightly awkward but definitely not hostile."

"Improvement, then."

"Significant improvement."

Noel tilted his head back to look at him. "Think they’ll sort everything out? With Lina?"

"Eventually. Or they won’t. Either way, they’re handling it like adults instead of making it everyone’s problem."

"When did our friends become mature?"

"When we weren’t looking. Very inconsiderate of them."

Noel laughed, pulling Luca around by the wrist until he dropped onto his lap.

"Speaking of mature adult behavior....."

Luca let himself be dragged easily, arms instinctively looping around Noel’s waist. "Yes?"

"Want to order terrible food and watch something mindless?"

"That’s the least mature suggestion you’ve made all day."

"Exactly. Balance." Noel bumped his forehead lightly against Luca’s. "You’re welcome."

"I love your version of balance," Luca said, smiling despite himself.

They stayed like that for a moment—close, comfortable, the kind of closeness that didn’t demand attention but existed anyway. Then Luca reached for his phone.

"What’s the damage tonight?" he asked.

"Something fried. Something greasy. Something future-us will regret."

"Ah. Emotional support food."

"Precisely."

They ended up ordering far too much—noodles, dumplings, something deep-fried and questionably named. While they waited, Luca kicked off his shoes and sprawled across the couch, head in Noel’s lap, legs draped over the armrest like he belonged there.

"You know," Luca said, watching the ceiling, "this is the most productive thing I’ve done all day."

"Lying dramatically across my lap?"

"Emotionally productive," he corrected. "Very different."

Noel snorted, absently running his fingers through Luca’s hair. "Your bar for productivity is impressively low."

"You love it."

"I tolerate it."

"That’s basically love."

Their food arrived quickly, and soon the coffee table was cluttered with cartons and napkins. They ate cross-legged on the couch, knees bumping, occasionally stealing from each other’s containers with zero shame.

"This is yours," Noel said, pointing to a dumpling.

"It was mine," Luca corrected, already reaching for it.

"Past tense. I’ve claimed it emotionally."

"You can’t emotionally claim food."

"Watch me."

They dissolved into quiet laughter again, the easy kind that didn’t need a punchline.

The show they put on barely mattered—some reality competition neither of them followed closely. It played in the background while they commented lazily, drifting in and out of attention. At some point, Luca curled closer, head resting against Noel’s shoulder, legs tangled with his.

"Your shoulder is warm," he murmured.

"Good. That means I’m alive."

"Bare minimum, but I’ll take it."

Noel leaned his head against Luca’s, the movement instinctive. "You okay?" he asked softly.

"Yeah," Luca said after a beat. "Just... tired in a good way."

"Mm."

They stayed like that until the credits rolled, neither of them really noticing when the episode ended.

Eventually, Luca shifted, stretching. "We should probably move before I fall asleep like this and wake up unable to walk."

"Tragic," Noel said, but he helped him up anyway.

They moved through their nighttime routine in that comfortable, half-silent rhythm—brushing teeth side by side, bumping elbows, exchanging small looks in the mirror that said more than words.

When they finally climbed into bed, the room was quiet except for the hum of the city outside and the soft rustle of sheets.

Luca rolled onto his side, facing Noel. "Three more weeks," he said quietly.

Noel hummed in response, eyes already half-lidded.

"That’s it," Luca continued. "Three weeks and the semester’s over."

"Mm."

"And then... things change."

Noel opened his eyes then, turning his head to look at him. "You sound worried."

"Not worried," Luca said. "Just... aware."

"Of what?"

"Of how fast things move. One minute we’re just trying to survive midterms, internship, and then suddenly we’re talking about what comes after."

Noel watched him for a moment before answering. "You don’t have to have it all figured out."

"I know." Luca swallowed. "I just don’t want to rush past this part."

"The part where we’re tired, broke, slightly unhinged, and eating takeout on a Monday?"

"Exactly that part."

Noel smiled softly and reached out, brushing his thumb over Luca’s knuckles. "We don’t have to rush it."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

Luca exhaled, tension easing out of his shoulders. He shifted closer, pressing his forehead against Noel’s chest.

"Can we just... stay here, like this?" he murmured. "Not think about what comes next."

"Yeah," Noel said, wrapping an arm around him. "We can stay right here, as long as you need."

They lay like that, breathing in sync, the world reduced to the quiet rhythm of each other’s presence.

Outside, the city carried on—cars passing, lights blinking, time moving forward whether they were ready or not.

Inside, for now, nothing needed to change.

And that was enough.