Dear Roommate Please Stop Being Hot [BL]-Chapter 232: Good Work, Son

The office had softened under the evening glow, the hum of computers and chatter replaced by a quiet rhythm of wrapping up.

Bella zipped her bag and glanced toward Liam. "I think I’m going to call it a day," she said, voice light. "You coming?"

Liam nodded, smiling faintly. "Yeah, sounds good. See you tomorrow, everyone."

"Bye!" Camila called, gathering her things with Wei Chen. Papers shuffled, chairs scraped gently across the floor.

Georgia stepped out of her office, clipboard in hand. "Good work today, everyone. Go home and rest. We’ll pick this up tomorrow."

"Thank you, boss," Bella said, already halfway to the door.

"See you tomorrow!" Liam added, waving as he followed.

Camila and Wei Chen offered polite nods, smiles tugging at their lips. "Evening," they murmured, disappearing down the hallway.

The office gradually emptied, the soft click of doors closing punctuating the quiet.

Luca leaned back in his chair, hands hovering over his keyboard.

He had finished the major tasks, but one small spreadsheet still needed adjusting.

He exhaled, shoulders easing slightly, letting the calm of the office settle around him.

He glanced at the clock and then toward the elevator, half-hoping, half-wondering if Noel might come down the hall soon, walking beside him on the way out.

But the moment passed.

He remembered Noel’s words, firm but polite: You don’t have to wait for me anymore.

Luca’s lips pressed together, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Right," he murmured under his breath. "One more little thing..."

He returned to the screen, fingers moving deliberately, taking his time.

The office was quiet now, lights reflecting softly on polished surfaces, the faint hum of the air conditioning the only sound accompanying him.

Evening had settled fully outside.

Streetlights glimmered through the glass panes, casting long shadows along the floor.

Luca’s posture was relaxed yet attentive, the small glow of the monitor illuminating his face.

He worked slowly, savoring the quiet, letting the day wind down gently. He didn’t rush. He didn’t need to.

And somewhere, he thought, Noel would get home safely, as always.

Luca didn’t need to wait — he could finish this one thing at his own pace, let the evening settle around him, calm and measured, the day’s rhythm ending softly, quietly, perfectly.

Luca slung his laptop into his bag, shoulders easing as he stood.

The office was quiet now, the faint glow of overhead lights casting soft reflections on the polished floor.

He stepped toward the elevator, motioning to press the button, when a familiar voice called behind him.

"Kid, all done already?"

He turned, a small, genuine smile spreading across his face.

It was Jeff.

"Hey, Jeff," Luca said, nodding respectfully. "Yeah, finished up the work for today."

Jeff’s eyes twinkled faintly, a mix of warmth and amusement in his gaze. "Going home alone?" he asked, tilting his head.

Luca shook his head slightly. "Noel still has some work to finish. I’m heading out on my own for now."

"Ah," Jeff said, lips curling into a knowing smile. "I’m heading home too, but I need to stop by the office first. You walking with me?"

Luca raised an eyebrow, then chuckled softly. "Sure, I can walk with you."

Jeff clapped him lightly on the shoulder, that quiet, familiar reassurance he always carried. "Good. Nice to have company before the evening sets in."

Together, they started toward the office, steps easy, shoulders relaxed.

The sound of their shoes echoed gently in the empty hallway, the quiet rhythm of their walk punctuated by the soft rustle of Jeff’s coat and Luca’s bag shifting slightly with each step.

"So," Jeff said after a few paces, tone casual, "how’s the day been for you? Smooth sailing?"

Luca let out a small laugh, shaking his head. "Mostly. A few tweaks here and there. Nothing I couldn’t handle."

"Figured as much," Jeff replied, eyes scanning him briefly, a quiet note of pride lingering in his gaze. "You always manage to get it done. Makes me wonder where you got that persistence from."

"Must be from dad," Luca teased lightly, a small grin tugging at his lips. "Or maybe from my uncle jeff. Either way, I’ve got good mentors."

Jeff chuckled softly, the sound warm in the empty corridor. "Flattery will get you everywhere, kid. But seriously, it’s good to see you steady and focused. Makes stopping by the office worth it."

Luca nodded, eyes forward, letting the words settle softly.

They moved together in companionable silence, the quiet of the office wrapping around them, gentle and unhurried, the evening stretching calmly ahead.

The office door swung open, and Luca froze mid-step.

His father—Mr. Smith—stood by the window, jacket draped over one arm, phone in hand.

The late evening light caught the edges of his profile, sharp and composed as always.

Luca hadn’t expected him to still be here.

Jeff moved smoothly toward his desk, gathering a folder and his briefcase without pause. "Just need to grab these," he murmured, more to himself than anyone else.

Luca cleared his throat softly. "Dad."

Mr. Smith turned, eyes landing on his son with that measured calm he always carried. "Luca," he said, slipping his phone into his pocket. "Still here?"

"Just finished," Luca replied, stepping further inside. "Didn’t think you’d still be around."

His father’s lips curved faintly—not quite a smile, but close. "Had a few calls to wrap up." He paused, eyes narrowing slightly in quiet assessment. "I heard about your pitch. The bottle campaign."

Luca’s shoulders straightened, though he tried to keep his expression casual. "Yeah? Who told you?"

"Georgia sent over the notes," Mr. Smith said. "She said you handled it well. Client seemed impressed."

Luca felt warmth creep into his chest, the kind he’d never admit aloud. "It went okay," he said, voice even. "Teamwork, mostly."

Jeff glanced up from his desk, folder in hand, grinning. "Don’t be modest, kid. Georgia doesn’t throw compliments around like confetti. If she said you handled it well, you did."

Mr. Smith’s gaze lingered on Luca, something unspoken flickering there—pride, maybe, though he’d never name it. "She also mentioned you kept your cool under pressure. That’s not easy with a room full of skeptics."

Luca shrugged lightly, fighting the urge to smile too wide. "Guess she trained me well."

"She did," Jeff said, setting the folder under his arm. "But you’ve got instinct too. That’s not something she can teach."

Luca tilted his head, a mischievous glint sparking in his eyes as he looked at his father. "So... since I sold the bottle pitch so well, does that mean you’re ready to hand over the chair now?"

The room stilled for half a beat—then Jeff let out a sharp laugh, shaking his head. "Oh, here we go."

Mr. Smith’s lips twitched, almost imperceptibly. "Just because you can pitch a bottle doesn’t mean you can run a company, Luca."

"Ouch," Luca said, pressing a hand to his chest in mock hurt. "That’s cold, Dad."

Jeff grinned, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "He’s got a point, though. You’re good at selling ideas. But running the whole operation? That’s a different beast."

Luca crossed his arms, still smirking. "So do I at least get a reward for my hard work?"

Mr. Smith studied him for a moment, eyes softening just slightly—barely noticeable, but there. "Good work, son," he said quietly.

The words hung in the air, simple and unadorned.

But Luca’s smirk softened into something gentler. His shoulders relaxed.

The tightness in his chest eased, replaced by something warmer, steadier. *Good work, son.* He’d carry those words home with him. "Yeah," he murmured. "That’s enough."

Jeff clapped him on the back as they moved toward the door. "Come on, kid. Let’s get out of here before your dad changes his mind and assigns you another project."

Mr. Smith shook his head faintly, the ghost of a smile still lingering. "I’ll see you both tomorrow."

"Goodnight, sir," Jeff said, pushing the door open.

Luca glanced back once, catching his father’s eyes. Something passed between them—quiet, unspoken, but solid. "Night, Dad."

"Night, Luca."

The hallway felt cooler now, the quiet hum of the building settling into evening stillness.

The fluorescent lights overhead had dimmed slightly, casting everything in softer tones.

Jeff and Luca walked side by side, their footsteps echoing softly against the polished floors.

When they reached the elevator, Jeff pressed the button and turned to him. "You want a ride home? It’s no trouble."

Luca shook his head, offering a small smile. "Thanks, but it’s okay. It’s only ten minutes on foot. I could use the walk."

Jeff studied him for a moment, then nodded. "Alright. Don’t stay out too late."

"I won’t," Luca said, lifting a hand in casual farewell as the elevator doors slid open.

Jeff stepped inside, turning to face him. "And Luca?"

"Yeah?"

"You did good today." His voice was steady, sincere. "Really."

Luca’s smile widened, just a bit. The words settled somewhere warm and solid. "Thanks, uncle Jeff."

The doors closed, and Luca stood there for a moment, alone in the quiet hallway.

The building hummed faintly around him, the distant sound of traffic filtering through the walls.

He exhaled slowly, letting the day finally release its grip.

Then he turned, slinging his bag higher on his shoulder, and walked toward the exit.

The glass doors slid open, and the cool night air hit him immediately—crisp and clean, carrying the faint scent of rain and asphalt.

The city stretched out before him, streetlights glowing warm against the deepening blue of the sky.

Car horns honked distantly, and somewhere a siren wailed, fading into the hum of the evening.

Luca took a deep breath, letting the cool air fill his lungs.

His father’s words echoed faintly in his mind—*good work, son*—and he smiled to himself, small and private.

He started walking, hands in his pockets, the rhythm of his steps steady and unhurried.

The city moved around him, alive and restless, but Luca felt calm, grounded, content.

Just ten minutes. Then home.