Hours Later - Shreya's Home

The door swung open and we stepped inside, sighing relieved from the incessant heat. Shreya made a beeline for the sofa and collapsed across it dramatically, her uniform clinging to her damp skin.

"Turn the fan on, Arvind. I'm dying here." She tugged at her collar, trying to get some air moving. "God, it's fucking brutal today."

I couldn't help but laugh as I crossed the room and flicked the fan switch. The blades started turning lazily overhead.

"Anything else, your highness?" I asked, dripping sarcasm as I walked towards me.

"Actually, yeah. A cold glass of soda with ice would be amazing right about now." She didn't even look at me, just kept fanning herself with one hand.

I dropped onto the sofa beside her. "Get it yourself. I'm exhausted too, you know."

She laughed, and moved closer to me. "Don't wanna."

Then she shifted even more closer, her voice turning syrupy sweet, exaggeratedly coquettish. "I'm so tired, baby. You'd really make me walk allll the way to the kitchen? Is that how you treat your lovely girlfriend?"

I sighed, already standing up knowing I had ****. "Fine. You win."

I headed to the kitchen, pulled a Coke from the fridge, and poured it over ice, listening to it fizz and crack. Glass in hand, I walked back into the living room.

Then I stopped dead.

Shreya was still sprawled across the sofa, but now her shirt hung open, buttons undone halfway down, revealing the curve of her breasts straining against her bra. She was watching me with a wicked smirk on her face.

"Bring me that glass," she purred, eyes locked on mine. "Then come collect your reward for being such a good boyfriend."