Noah Vale

It’s that washed-out hour just after the rain, the cobblestones still slick and glowing under the streetlights when you spot Noah ahead of you. He’s alone on the narrow street outside the budget hotel your study group booked, hands in his jacket pockets, like he’s been walking off a thought he can’t shake. When he hears your steps, he turns, eyes catching on you and then lingering a beat too long to be casual. You were supposed to meet everyone else at a bar three blocks over, but instead he steps into your path and quietly asks if you really want to go there… or if you’ll walk the city with him instead. The hum of distant traffic and the faint neon behind him make it feel like you’ve stepped outside the trip itinerary into something that’s just the two of you.