16
The digital clock beside Adhira's bed glowed a harsh red: 1:14 AM.
The house was completely silent, the kind of heavy quiet that made every thought in her head amplify tenfold. She lay on her back, the thin strap of her silk nightgown slipping off her shoulder, her phone resting on her stomach.
She picked it up, pulled up his contact, and pressed dial before she could talk herself out of it.
It rang only once.
"H-hello?"
His voice was a breathless, panicked rasp. It didn't sound like the composed tutor. It sounded like a boy who had just been electrocuted by his ringtone.
"You're awake," Adhira whispered, shifting onto her side and pulling the duvet up over her bare legs.
She heard a loud thud on the other end, like a textbook falling to the floor, followed by the frantic rustle of sheets. "Adhira? Is... is everything okay? Are you safe? It's past one in the morning."
"I'm perfectly safe," she murmured, a slow, wicked smile curving her lips in the dark. "But I was scrolling through my phone, and I realized something that deeply offended me, Senior."
"Offended?" He sounded completely lost, his breathing loud and erratic against the receiver. "What did I do?"
"I've had your number since the first week of college. Ayan gave it to me for 'emergencies'," Adhira said, tracing the edge of her pillow with her fingernail. "Which means you've had mine, too. For months."
Silence stretched over the line, thick and heavy.
"For months, Shreyash," she continued, her voice dropping to a husky, teasing purr. "You had my number right there in your pocket but you never sent a single text. Not even a 'hello'. Why?"
"I... I didn't..." Shreyash stammered, his voice cracking horribly. "I couldn't. I mean, you are... you're Ayan's sister. And I was just... tutoring you."
"Tutoring me," Adhira repeated softly, rolling onto her stomach. She buried her face half into the mattress, loving the absolute power she had over this brilliant, terrified boy. "Is that all you wanted to do? Because today, when you kissed my forehead... you didn't feel like my tutor."
A sharp, audible intake of breath echoed through the speaker. Shreyash made a strangled, helpless sound in the back of his throat.
"Did you think about it?" she challenged, completely shameless, lowering her voice until it was a sensual whisper. "After you ran away from me in the library. Did you go home and think about kissing my mouth instead?"
"Adhira... please," he begged, his voice a high, reedy whisper. He was utterly tongue-tied, completely incapable of forming a coherent sentence. "I... I can't..."
"Good," she breathed, her blood singing with victory. "Keep thinking about it. Goodnight, Shreyash."
She hung up, leaving him completely flustered and drowning in the silence.
The campus cafeteria was a war zone of clattering plates, scraping chairs, and shouting students.
In the middle of the chaos sat Ayan, fiercely holding court over a plate of greasy fries.
Beside him was his classmate, Kunal, and directly across from them was Shreyash.
Shreyash looked completely exhausted, dark circles smudged beneath his eyes, his hair slightly disheveled.
He was staring blindly at an open notebook, completely zoned out.
Adhira walked through the double doors, and the air around the table seemed to immediately vaporize.
She was wearing a fitted, dark crimson top that left her collarbones bare, her hair falling in a cascade of loose waves. She didn't look at her brother. She walked straight over to the chair occupied by Kunal and offered him a sweet, perfectly polite smile.
"Hey, Kunal," Adhira said softly, her tone light and charming. "Would you mind if I took this seat? I just really need to ask Shreyash a quick question about my assignment."
Kunal blinked up at her, a half-eaten fry suspended in mid-air. He looked at her bright smile, then down at his plate, easily swayed. "Oh! Yeah, of course. No problem at all."
"Thank you so much, I owe you one," she chimed sweetly as Kunal picked up his plate and moved to the empty chair at the end of the table.
Adhira immediately sank into the vacated seat. She reached down to grab the legs of the chair and deliberately dragged it inches closer to Shreyash.
Shreyash jumped as if he'd been burned. He stopped breathing entirely, his eyes widening behind his glasses as he stared rigidly at his notebook, terrified to even turn his head.
"Adhira, what is your problem?" Ayan snapped, aggressively pointing a fry at her. "There are literally ten empty tables! Stop crowding us. And you don't even have an assignment due!"
Adhira ignored him completely. She leaned in so close to Shreyash that her shoulder brushed against his tense bicep. The scent of her jasmine perfume completely enveloped him.
"Shreyash," she murmured, her voice a soft, silken contrast to Ayan's shouting.
He swallowed hard, the muscles in his throat working frantically. "Y-yes?" he squeaked out, still staring at the blank page.
"Look at me," she requested softly.
Trembling slightly, Shreyash turned his head. His dark eyes swept over her bare collarbones, the crimson fabric, and the wicked smile playing on her lips. A deep, violent blush immediately stained his neck.
"I spent an extra twenty minutes getting ready this morning," she whispered, leaning just a fraction closer. "Do I look pretty today?"
Across the table, Ayan choked on his water, dissolving into a fit of violent coughing. "Are you insane?! Do not answer that, Shrey! It's a trap!"
Shreyash opened his mouth, but no sound came out. His brain had officially flatlined. He looked at her lips, then her eyes, his face burning so hot Adhira could practically feel the heat radiating off him. He gave a jerky, frantic little nod, looking like he was about to pass out.
And then, beneath the sticky wooden table, hidden entirely from Ayan's view, Adhira made her move.
She slid her hand across the denim of her own jeans, finding Shreyash's hand resting tensely on his thigh. She didn't just touch him. She pressed her palm flat against his, completely bypassing any hesitation, and boldly forced her fingers between his, locking their hands together.
Shreyash let out a loud, strangled choke.
His entire body went completely, rigidly stiff. He froze like a solid block of wood.
"Dude, are you choking now too?" Ayan demanded, slamming his hand on the table. "What is wrong with you today?"
Shreyash didn't squeeze Adhira's hand back.
He didn't move his thumb. He didn't even breathe.
He just sat there, absolutely paralyzed, his eyes wide and terrified, staring blankly at Ayan while his face turned the color of a stop sign.
His fingers were completely stiff within her grasp, overwhelmed by a sensual overload he had absolutely no idea how to process.
Adhira bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing, her thumb gently stroking the side of his frozen, wooden hand beneath the table, entirely delighted by how completely she had broken him.