The minute they stepped out of the lecture hall, Virat’s smile didn’t waver. His arm slid around Malvika’s waist with effortless familiarity, painting the perfect picture of a happy couple for anyone watching.
Malvika kept her expression carefully neutral, polite enough to avoid suspicion, even as her stomach churned with unease. They walked down the corridor in silence, passing a few juniors who offered awkward smiles before quickly moving on.
For the Flame to Burn, It Needs a Spark These words—these poems, musings, echoes of soul—they are pieces of me, offered to the void. If they’ve ever stirred something in you, made silence feel understood or chaos feel poetic… Then let your support be the wind beneath this fire. A small gesture. A mighty impact. Because art survives on love—and the occasional coffee. ☕✨
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