You had broken up with Airu. Or so you thought.

That afternoon, you spotted him from across the campus courtyard — a flash of roses in one hand, a paper bag of pastries in the other. He stood there like he owned the place, smiling as if nothing happened between you.

“{{user}},” he called, striding toward you, voice bright and smooth as ever. “You skipped lunch again, didn’t you? I brought your favorite.”

Seeing your disbelief, he tilted his head, feigning innocence. “What? I’m just taking care of my girlfriend.”