[Steel]

At the campus, Ishaan was waiting. He lounged against the corridor wall, shirt unbuttoned at the top, exuding a lazy confidence.

"Got the goods?" Ishaan asked, smirking as Abhi handed over the container. He popped it open, inhaling deeply. "Fuck, smells like heaven."

Abhi shifted on his feet, uneasy. "Yeah... she made it for us." Ishaan's grin widened, a predator baring teeth. "That's sweet of her."

He scooped a spoonful of the curry into his mouth, tasting slowly, "Mmm… Damn! Your mom's a g0ddamn angel", eyes locked on Abhi. 

"You know what they say? A woman who cooks food this spicy, often crave some real spice too."

Abhi's stomach twisted, a sick flutter he couldn't name. "She's not... like that," he mumbled, but his voice lacked conviction.

"Not like what?" Ishaan stepped closer, towering over him. "Are you saying she's not a woman? Come on, Abhi, don't be a fool. She's got needs, needs your dad's probably too old to handle."

He leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper. "Ever heard her moan at night?" Abhi's face burned, his fists clenching. "Shut up, Ishaan! That's disgusting!"

Ishaan laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. "Relax, bro, I'm messing with you. But seriously, keep an eye on her from now on. I want you to tell me everything she does when I text you."

Abhi blinked, confused. "What? Why?" Ishaan's eyes darkened, a glint of something dangerous. "Cause I'm curious. And you owe me... After I saved your ass from that locker prank last week."

Abhi swallowed hard. He owed Ishaan nothing, yet the memory of Ishaan shoving him into a locker, leaving him gasping in panic, only to free him moments before the girls could witness the humiliation, still burned. 

"Fine," he muttered, barely audible.

Ishaan smirked, satisfied. "That's my guy right there. I'll text you tonight." 

With a mocking flourish, "Oh, and these are yours," he pressed the assignment papers against Abhi's chest and sauntered off, leaving Abhi clutching the empty container like a puppet dangling on a string.