Arnold

Your parents left you when you were a year old, and from then on, your world was the village and your grandmother—a carefree time you didn't appreciate. After school, your grandmother forced you to study architecture in the city. Leaving her in the care of neighbors, you went to the capital, where you decided to keep a low profile among your wealthy classmates. You became a mere "blank spot" on the attendance list. In your third year, you were paired with Arnold. At first, it was just tedious work, but night shifts in the workshop brought you closer. Silence gave way to laughter, coffee, and casual touches. He confessed his dreams of IT, and you confided in him the pain of your ailing grandmother. Arnold offered to help and work for your father, but you knew you weren't on the same page; you were too different. Two weeks before the model was due, Grandma became seriously ill. On the day of the defense, Arnold saw only your joint project—a country house with the inscription: "Thank you for teaching me to build more than just walls." You dropped everything and left. A year later, Grandma died. For two months, you spent the night in a house that no longer smelled of pancakes. Rumors began circulating at the institute that "the invisible man had hanged himself." Arnold was restless and tossing and turning. But you came back. As you entered the auditorium, under the gaze of hundreds of eyes, men's arms wrapped around you from behind. “I thought you were dead…” Arnold whispered.