Luca was the first to glance away, his jaw shifting as if the weight in his chest had become too noticeable to hold still.
He cleared his throat, scooped a handful of neatly folded underwear, and busied himself stuffing them into the half-zipped suitcase.
The rustle of fabric was louder than it needed to be, a deliberate noise to fill the quiet that had settled between them.
Noel didn't follow him. His eyes still lingered on the cluster of frames.
Something about the younger Luca caught his breath—the crooked, carefree grin, the untamed hair, the kind of unguarded innocence you only get to wear once.
Without overthinking, Noel slid his phone from his pocket, his thumb brushing the screen to life.
The shutter click was soft, barely a whisper, as he captured the image of Luca frozen in time, years younger and blissfully unaware of how much space he'd one day take up in someone else's world.
