Lưu ý: Truyện chỉ đăng tải trên Wattpad của Alph16 và không được đăng tải trên bất kì website Việt Nam nào như truyenwiki1.com hay truyen3s.com;... Tất cả các website Việt đăng tải đều là ăn cắp và re-up trái phép, mong bạn đọc có tâm hãy chỉ đọc ở Wattpad chính chủ để ủng hộ và bảo vệ quyền lợi của cộng đồng tác giả Việt Nam.

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(each chapter in ASC will include 2 parts: Summary and Reading, so please pay attention)

1. Summary:

"Carl smiled sadly, understanding that life was not about blending apples and oranges but appreciating them both for their unique qualities. They were simply different slices of the same fruit universe, each brilliant in its own right, yet forever apart."

-Gernes: short story / romance

-Motif: unidentified

-Characters:

Carleb: the meticulous cartographer

Elena: the chaotic tempest

2. Reading:

The scent of Elena was sharp, green, and volatile, a blend that first distinguished her amidst the rotund apples and muted earth tones of the library stacks. Carl's own atmosphere was the embodiment of quiet, predictable sweetness. Imagine a perfectly ripe apple left on a windowsill: comforting, clean, and easily defined. In contrast, Elena brought the bright, slightly acidic zest of a fresh orange into his life. She was the chaos in his carefully planned world, impossible to categorize, and always a girl liable to leave a stain.

They met often in the dusty quiet of the graduate library, a sanctuary for students dodging the pressures of their respective disciplines. Carl was meticulous, meticulously charting data points for his thesis on sustainable urban planning. His world revolved around order, logic, and exactitude. Meanwhile, Elena was a whirlwind—an invigorating storm of philosophy and protest, constantly challenging the established order as she asserted that the entire system needed to be torn down, reimagined, and rebuilt anew.

This dynamic was not unusual in university life: the meticulous cartographer was lured towards the chaotic tempest. Their connection, however, was not forged on shared tastes but rather through the sparks of mutual intellectual friction. Carl provided her with calming structure through his clear graphs and neatly organized notes. At the same time, she, in turn, offered him a potent sense of intellectual danger. Elena pulled him from the rigidity of his spreadsheets, compelling him to confront ideas beyond the numbers he loved. Their conversations were vibrant duels, leaving him feeling both expanded and worn out, like a raindrop bouncing off a windowpane.

One late evening, as they sat at a wooden table strewn with textbooks and half-eaten study snacks, their difference crystallized. Carl had chosen an apple, round and crisp. Meanwhile, Elena aggressively peeled an orange, the zest releasing an oil hazing the air. The sticky juice clung to her fingers and fell like sacramental drops onto the table.

"See," she said, looking up as the warm light from a desk lamp illuminated her face. "Yours is perfect. It is exactly what it promises to be. Mine is messy. You have to work to get to the good part, and it leaves a residue."

Carl watched her, fascinated. In that moment, it was as if a veil lifted, revealing not merely the differences in their snacks but the essence of their dynamic. He felt a sympathetic pang of fear swell within him. The metaphor encompassed everything they shared: Carl needed life to be like an apple with defined edges, reliable sweetness, and a core containing all its purpose. Elena was intoxicating yet unpredictable, much like an orange filled with segments, demanding and complex, leaving behind a scintillating yet unresolved mess.

He often believed in the geometry of things; the idea that two individuals could meet, overlap perfectly, and travel forth along parallel lines. But their relationship defied simple geometric constructs. It was a complex and beautiful set of spirals, sharing a central point yet never truly aligning. Their issue, he came to understand, was not about love or any absence thereof. It was about the fundamental architectural difference in their souls.

As finals approached, the end came not through dramatic confrontation, but rather a gradual, muted drift. Carl found himself retreating into the introverted solitude of his work, yearning for the unambiguous structure of his data. The urgency heightened his need for calm, making the concerns of daily life seem almost trivial. He craved the familiar grasp of steady, defined patterns, the predictability wrapped up in his academic endeavors.

In turn, Elena retreated into the chaos of her activism. Her passion flared brighter with every report of injustice, each flyer she stacked in front of unsuspecting students. Carl watched her whirlwind from afar with a bittersweet admiration. She was a force of nature that left euphoric demolition in her wake.

Capitals of orange juice sorrows lingered in his mind, memories that ambushed him in unexpected moments. Walking through the grocery store, he might catch a whiff of citrus or see a passing student with splashes of tangerine color brightening their book bag. Each encounter conjured a bittersweet memory. They were aches that stemmed not from regret but from the clear and simple sadness of knowing they were two perfect, wonderful things that could never be combined without losing their essence.

Carl smiled sadly, understanding that life was not about blending apples and oranges but appreciating them both for their unique qualities. They were simply different slices of the same fruit universe, each brilliant in its own right, yet forever apart.

Years later, long after graduation, Carl found himself in a bustling café, a steady rhythm wrapping around him like an embrace. As he sipped his apple cider, he could still remember the vibrant chaos of her laughter and fervor brushing against his quietude. He smiled, embracing the memories without longing. Carl was content knowing that they existed, beautifully and separately, each leaving a mark on the singular canvas of his life.

[The End]