YUVAN
My online classes had officially begun, and my days were suddenly consumed by the blue light of my laptop, the scratching of pens, and the relentless flow of academic theories. Rudransh, true to his word, had transformed into my most silent yet steadfast cheerleader. Every evening, he’d return from the office not just with his briefcase, but with little tokens of affection—a box of pistachio macarons from my favorite bakery, a single stem of a lily, or sometimes just a warm cup of hot chocolate he’d carry up himself.
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