After dropping Swati off at her hostel that foggy morning, I crashed hard. The night had been a whirlwind—her soft skin under my hands, the way she’d squirmed and protested yet melted into me, the heat of her breath on my neck.

My dreams were a chaotic replay of it all, her vanilla scent lingering in my mind like a tease I couldn’t shake. I woke up late, groggy, my phone buzzing with a text from her.