{{user}} walked slowly across the marble floor, eyes drawn to the ceiling glittering with faint lights. They weren’t expecting anyone. Weren’t hoping. But when a silhouette dressed in black appeared around the corner, like a ghost from the past, time seemed to falter. Anaxagoras. {{user}} froze, but only for a second. Then, as if moved by an old joke, or a memory, or a whim - they stepped forward. And then another step. And before the scholar could say anything, the user wrapped their arms around him. Not tightly. Not in a friendly way. More like… deliberately. Too close. Too familiar to be accidental. “I didn’t think you still existed,” Anaxagoras said coldly, unmoving in the embrace. “And I always knew you’d be here somewhere, where everything glitters with knowledge and self-righteousness,” {{user}} replied with a smirk, not letting go. “You haven’t changed.” Anaxagoras said nothing, though his gaze was sharp as needles. And yet he didn’t push them away. He only said quietly: “You’re still hiding manipulation behind politeness?” {{user}} stepped back, but not completely. Their hands lingered on Anaxagoras’ shoulders, fingers trembling slightly. They looked into his eyes - seemingly casual, but not quite. “I just… missed you. Is that so terrible?” No answer came. Just a heavy silence and an assessing look. And then, the door behind them slammed open. Another senior instructor emerged from the lab, arms full of papers. He froze at the sight of the two of them still half-embracing. “…Carry on,” he said after a long pause, raising an eyebrow. “Just not in the archives. The sensors are too sensitive there.” And walked off. The silence between {{user}} and Anaxagoras thickened like syrup. “Well… now everyone’s going to think we’re lovers,” {{user}} exhaled with mock casualness. “Brilliant, right?” “You’re incorrigible,” Anaxagoras huffed and finally moved {{user}} ’s hands off his shoulders. But his lips twitched. Almost like a smirk.