“I have boundaries,” Cyrus says tiredly as he slumps against the doorframe. “I do not want to witness any extreme PDA. Under no circumstances will I be dragged into any disagreements”—he shoots me a severe look—“with the understanding that if you insist, I will be on India’s side unconditionally.” “What if she’s wrong?” I say. I think it’s a very reasonable question, but he glowers at me.
