Chapter 129 You have no rights

Chapter 129 You have no rights
By the time they reached Kian's room, Luca's hair was damp from the rain. Water dripped from the ends onto his jacket. His shoes were wet. His skin was cold.

Kian opened the door. His room was small but neat. A single bed. A desk. A window that faced the courtyard. "Get inside before you drown."

Luca stepped inside. The warmth hit him.

Kian threw him a towel. The fabric was soft. "Here."

"Thanks."

Sam dropped onto the floor. His back hit the wall. He sighed dramatically. "This is depressing."

Kian looked at him. "You're depressing."

"Same thing."

Luca sat on the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped beneath him. His eyes had grown heavy. The warmth of the room was pulling at him.

He stared at the rain streaking the window. The water traced paths down the glass.

Then, quietly—"I hate it when he left wet towels everywhere."

Sam looked over. His eyes were soft.

Kian stayed silent.

Luca smiled faintly. The expression was fragile. "I'd complain for ten minutes. He'd argue."

Sam said softly, "Sounds like Jack."

"But then he'd pick them up." Luca's voice cracked. "He always picked them up."

His smile disappeared. "I thought he would always be there to complain."

Kian looked down.

Sam shifted closer. His knee pressed against the edge of the bed. His voice was quiet. "Luca."

Luca rubbed his eyes. His hand was shaking. "I don't understand."

Nobody answered.

Luca's voice dropped. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do with that."

The room went quiet except for the rain.

Kian quietly pulled the blanket from the back of the chair and placed it beside Luca. The fabric was soft. "You don't have to do anything tonight."

Luca stared at him. His eyes were red. "That's the problem." His voice cracked. "I want to fix it."

Sam's voice softened. "You can't fix everything."

Luca looked down at his hands. His shoulders shook. "I hate that."

"I know."

Luca leaned back against the wall. His head tilted. His eyes slowly closed.

"I still love him."

The words hung in the air. Fragile. Honest.

Sam and Kian exchanged a glance. The room was heavy with the weight of it.

Luca's breathing became slower. His body relaxed. Within minutes, exhaustion won. His head tilted to the side. His hand fell open on the blanket.

Kian carefully pulled the blanket over him. The fabric settled around his shoulders.

Sam whispered, "He's out."

Kian nodded. "Let him sleep."

Sam looked at Luca for a long moment. His expression was unreadable. Then he sighed. "Poor idiot."

Sam followed soon after. He curled on the floor, his head on his arm, his breathing evening out.

Kian stared at both of them. His eyebrows lifted. "Unbelievable."

He pulled a blanket over Luca. Then another over Sam. The fabric settled over their still forms.

The rain continued outside. The window blurred. The world beyond was gray and distant.


Later that night, the dorm room was dark when Jack opened the door.

The familiar scent of the room hit him Luca's shampoo, the faint trace of coffee, the warmth of shared space.

He looked around.

"Luca?"

Nothing.

He stepped inside. The door clicked shut behind him.

The room was empty. Jack's eyes moved across the space. Luca's bag wasn't by the door. His jacket wasn't hanging on the hook. His shoes weren't by the bed.

Jack walked to Luca's bed. He touched the blanket. It was cold.

His chest tightened.

He checked the bathroom. Empty. The towels were still folded. The sink was dry.

He checked the hallway. Nothing. Just the dim light and the empty corridor.

Jack's expression changed. His hands were shaking. He returned to the room and pulled out his phone. The screen glowed.

He scrolled to Luca's number. His thumb hovered over the call button. The screen blurred. His chest was tight.

He stopped. Couldn't press it.

He switched to Noah's number. His thumb moved. The phone rang several times.

Noah answered. His voice was quiet. "Jack?"

"Where's Luca?"

Silence.

Then—"Why?"

"Because he's not here."

Noah exhaled. The sound was heavy. "Luca's with Sam."

Jack frowned. The line between his brows deepened. "With you?"

"No."

"Then where are you?"

"Jay's room."

Jack's jaw tightened. His grip on the phone was white-knuckled. "Sam isn't there?"

"No."

"Then where the hell is he?"

Noah hesitated. The silence stretched. "I don't know."

Jack went completely still. His breath caught. "When did he—"

"Sam took him out after practice." Noah's voice was careful. "They haven't come back yet."

Jack stared at Luca's empty bed. The sheet was smooth, untouched. His pillow was still fluffed. The indentation of his head wasn't there.

Something hot and ugly twisted in his chest. His voice was flat. "Why is he not back? It's already ten at night."

Noah went quiet. The line hummed.

Then—"Jack."

"What?"

"You broke up with him."

Jack's grip tightened around the phone. "I know."

"So you don't really get to—"

"I know."

He ended the call.

The room fell silent again. The distant sound of rain tapped against the window.

Jack looked at Luca's bed. His pillow. His blanket. The empty space where Luca should have been.

He swallowed hard. His throat was dry. His eyes burned.

He had told Luca they were done. He had told him he couldn't stay. He had walked away.

Jack sat slowly on the edge of his own bed. The mattress creaked beneath him. His eyes remained fixed on the empty mattress across from him.

"Luca…" The name came out bitter.

He hated the jealousy. He hated himself for feeling it. And most of all—he hated that he had no right to feel it.

So why did the thought of Luca spending the night somewhere else make his chest feel like someone had driven a blade straight through it?

Jack grabbed his jacket. His movements were sharp. The fabric whispered.

He walked out. The door slammed behind him.