“Uh… tu, uh… kahin jaa rahi hai?” he asked, his voice tighter and harder than usual.
“Date te,” she replied quietly, intentionally avoiding meeting his dark eyes in the mirror for some reason. “Ohda naam Karan hai. College di ek class vich mile si hum.”
Vyom inhaled a very slow, careful breath. His chest tightened painfully. He nodded slowly. “Right. Haan. Karan.”
She still didn’t look at him as she finished her curls, moving on to her makeup bag. She didn’t know what to say to him.
“Tune dasya kyun nahi ki aaj raat teri date hai?” he asked, a sharp edge of hurt in his voice.
“Kyunki eh achanak hoya. Usne mainu sirf do ghante pehle hi pucha si.”
Still nodding, unable to stop his knee from bouncing, he turned around and walked straight back to the living room without continuing the conversation. He picked up his Xbox controller, sat heavily on the couch, and started up a random game. He felt… deeply disturbed… but fiercely denied knowing why.
As he ran around in the game mindlessly shooting people, he could hear her moving about in the bathroom. Then walking to her room, opening closets, and walking back and forth for the next twenty minutes. Every tiny movement, every zip, every rustle of fabric he heard in the background annoyed him to his core. His knee bounced faster. He pressed the plastic buttons on his controller harder. His jaw locked tight.
Eventually, Urvin walked into the living room.
Vyom paused his game and looked over. His breath caught violently in his throat. His face softened against his will as he saw her navy blue, velvet high heels that made her smooth, bare, toned legs look endlessly long. As his eyes traveled slowly upward, he looked at the sleek, midnight-blue Indo-western corset dress that clung desperately to her petite but curvy body. He blinked, stunned at how dangerously sexy she appeared. The sleek fabric squeezed her heavy breasts together and hugged her wide hips perfectly, layered with a sheer, heavily embroidered black dupatta draped effortlessly over one shoulder. The dress ended mid-thigh, showing off just how thick and creamy her legs were. Her hair was styled flawlessly. Her makeup was perfect, with a soft, glowing shimmer over her cheekbones.
She was breathtakingly gorgeous, in a way that looked almost effortless.
Urvin raised an eyebrow and held her hands out slightly as if to say, “Well? Kaisi lagg rahi haan?”
“Tu… professional lagg rahi hai,” he managed to choke out, his throat dry.
“Professional?” she repeated back to him with a slow smirk. “Main kisi job interview te thodi jaa rahi haan, gadhe.”
“Sorry. Mera matlab… tu… bohot sohni lagg rahi hai. Like… really, really good.”
“Thanks.” She half-smiled, a faint blush touching her cheeks, and turned toward the kitchen to grab a bottle of water.
Vyom watched her walk away. He was completely hypnotized, openly admiring the tight, flexing muscles of her calves in those velvet heels, and the deep, swaying movement of her wide hips in that form-fitting black dress he’d never seen her wear before. He forcefully ripped his eyes away, swallowing hard, and asked himself if this burning, twisting feeling in his head was jealousy. Why the fuck would he be jealous? She was his sister. It wasn’t like they were together, or even could be. It was sick. It couldn’t be that. It wasn’t like that, he lied to himself desperately.
