Shubman, delirious with fever after accidentally drinking the wrong medicine, drags Ishan into a cold bath, desperate to anchor himself to the only solid thing in his burning world. In the tub, fevered desperation turns to raw, possessive passion, leaving both men breathless and marked.

The Roychowdhury estate sat under a heavy, afternoon silence, the kind that pressed against the eardrums like deep water. Outside the thick stone walls, the sky was a clear, unyielding blue, but the air within the corridors felt stagnant, waiting for a storm that refused to break.