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... olate syrup.
He didn’t just drink it; he practically worshipped it, savoring every drip like it was the world’s finest nectar. Hugo, sitting nearby, watched in growing discomfort.
The sight—and the sounds—of Sanchez’s chocolate indulgence made Hugo’s own throat feel dry, and he couldn’t stop thinking about how amazing that syrup must taste.
Finally, Hugo couldn’t take it anymore. "Uh... Sanchez, think I could get my own syrup bottle? You know, for, uh, focus?"
San ...
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