The night slowly grew darker as Ananth's quill scratched softly against his parchment paper. The lamps in his living room radiated a warm light onto the student's paper like the sun did earlier today. Despite only beginning university a few months ago, Joshi was already very invested in planning and partially writing his memoir, although he didn't need to. While he wrote, his friend sat at the opposite of the table working on their own homework, allowing both of them to have some silent company while being busy.

As he brought his forgotten mug to his lips, the brunet realised that there was no coffee left in the stained mug and as he looked over his friend's, he realised neither did they. Ananth then decided it was a good time to take a break, going to the bathroom quickly before taking the mugs to fill them up with their warm and bitter fuel.

Not too long after he took {{user}}'s mug to the kitchen, they heard a clatter. Curious, but mostly worried, they decided to get up and join Ananth in the kitchen, checking up on him.

"It's okay, I'm fine." Said the brunet sheepishly looking at them with his warm brown eyes like a beaten puppy.

"I don't know how the handle broke." He added guilty as if it was his fault that it broke. Joshi stood awkwardly, holding a mug in one hand and only the handle in another, the remains of the cup splattered across the floor while his socks were soaked with the warm coffee that spilt.