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In the quiet monotony of the evening, the phone rang—a rare occurrence, a forgotten echo from school days. She never called unless necessity dictated: a Netflix subscription, a fleeting favor, something inconsequential. And yet, today, her voice carried something different, something unsettlingly casual.
She wanted to go out. A movie. A park. A space shared between two people. The request, simple in form, clung to the air like an unspoken riddle. Today, of all days. A day of roses, of gestures, of meanings too obvious to ignore.
And I,...
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