The afternoon sun beat down on the dusty windows of the boys' hostel, filtering through a layer of grime that blurred the edges of the campus outside. Inside Room 302, the air hung heavy with the scent of old sneakers, cheap deodorant, and a sudden, electric surge of desperation. Krish had waited three weeks for this. His roommates had finally left for the semester break, leaving him with a kingdom of peeling paint and a creaky wooden bed.

Siksha stood by the door, her chest heaving under a thin cotton kurta. She had barely stepped inside before Krish had her pinned against the wood, his hands sliding up her thighs with a hunger that bordered on violent.