HIS UNHOLY LOVE

Kavith Arora is everything society calls unholy.

Twenty-five. Graphic designer. Chaotic. Foul-mouthed. Ink crawling over his skin. Long shoulder-length hair usually shoved into a messy bun that looks like it lost a fight with gravity. Hostel boy. Self-made brat. Gay-though no one knows, because he prefers to top and keeps his secrets locked tighter than his sketchbooks. He comes home two, maybe three times a year. Respectful to his parents. Everything else is fair game.

His elder sister, Avni Arora, is the opposite in every way that counts. Twenty-eight. Practicing lawyer. Calm. Practical. Intelligent. The kind of person who plans three steps ahead while her brother is still deciding whether to light another cigarette or start another fight.

Kavith never drinks until he can't walk back to the hostel.

That night he does.

Stressed beyond reason, he kisses a stranger in a dimly lit pub-forcefully, for the first time. He gets slapped for it. Hard. He stumbles back to his room tasting blood and regret, certain the universe has finally decided to punish him for existing the way he does.

He has no idea the stranger is his sister's professor.

Or that Avni has liked that man for a very long time.

Some loves are holy.
Some are not.
This one was never meant to be either.