Agastya walked in, the faint click of his shoes echoing through the hallways. It was well past midnight, but the library light was still on. Curious, he wandered in, only to find Yuktha sitting cross-legged on the couch, surrounded by an intimidating stack of books.
"You know," he said, loosening his tie and leaning against the doorframe, "for someone who supposedly lives in a mansion, you've got a strange way of enjoying it. Where's the champagne, the parties?"
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