Never Gray ((India)) ((May contain PG13 material))

[Drake Manning]

Drake sat in the overcast shade of the large maple tree, hiding from the rays of sun which he despised. He wasn't a bright and happy person, and for that reason he felt it was appropriate if he stayed in the shadows. Drake lived in the shadows though, and he was used to it. For him, life was black and white. There were no gray areas. Drake lived life, and he lived it as though it would end at any moment. In fact, some times he wished it would end at any moment. It wasn't a suicidal feeling, or at least he would argue that. It was more of a feeling of needing escape. Drake always felt like he just wanted to escape from everything.

With his black pen and pad of white paper, Drake scratched out a temporary sketch of what he planned to draw. In the next half hour or so, he transformed the blank canvas of his sketchpad into a mess of black and white designs, looking rather chaotic and having no obvious intention of representing anything in particular. Deciding that it was a finished work, he closed the book and tossed it to his side with a heavy sigh of frustration.

I'm pathetic, he thought to himself. Alone. Depressed. And, pathetic. With his head in his hand, Drake thought about how summer was fading away from him faster than he had anticipated. Soon, it would be time for his last trip back to Hogwarts for his final year of school there. Soon, he would be forced into the arranged marriage that his parents had thrown him into. Bitterness filled his mouth as he stood from his place under the tree and grabbed his book from the ground.

Stepping into the beating rays, he shielded his eyes angrily and began walking quickly toward the shaded sidewalk. He had his head hung, and his quick steps were the only sound he could hear as he walked through the empty park. Lost in his own world, he barely even realized it when he bumped into another person walking past him. The girl's skinny frame caught his eye, and he turned to see a head of long flowing black hair pass him. "India?" he said, recognizing the girl from school. He didn't really know her well as much as he just knew of her. In fact, her reputation was almost as notorious as his own. With a dazed look, he waited to see if she would turn or just continue on her way.

((Hope this works for you... if I don't reply right away, I apologize. I am on vacation, and so my internet time is somewhat random and not always guaranteed. )

[India Nightingale]

((No problemo. Take your time.

Meh. I didn’t expect it to turn out this long, it just always… does! XD))

India tried not to care. India tried not to think. India tried her very, utter best not to be hurt. But try as she might… she failed every single time.

Every single bloody time.

Cursed emotions. India wished she were an unfeeling piece of rock, like the ones she kicked beneath her feet, devoid of trivial things such as love, hope, and kindness. These feelings only made you weaker, only dragged you down to sink and drown under the bottomless pit known as the sea of the feeble and frail. India almost barked aloud in bitter laughter as the wind blew her black tresses out of her pallid face. When had she become so poetical? Her feet heaved her thin body along reluctantly, scratching over the rough surface of the floor as her hands curled comfortably into her black leather jacket. India wasn’t really watching where she was going, she didn’t particularly care, as long as she was as far away as possible from her. India needed to be anywhere but near her. She felt tears prick at her eyes, moist and stingingly painful, and forced them away with hard, firm blinks. No one made India cry this easily. No one. Especially not her.
”You’re weathering away, India.”
”Am not.” India gritted her teeth with childish determination. ”I. Am. Not.”
”Don’t you realise? You’re slowly but surely killing yourself.”
Where was she going? India had no idea. Far, far away from the castle she called home. Far, far away from the person she called her twin sister. Far, far away from reality. India would immerse herself in her personal land of peace, like she usually did when Skye brought on these odd, tumultuous emotions that spilled out of her mouth, her eyes, her heart. India didn’t know why she reacted the way she did when she read what Skye had to say to her, why the anger boiled up and burst through the roof so strong and unstoppable. India couldn’t help it. She just couldn’t. But she honestly wished she could. No self-control was another concept of weakness, one which India hated to show. It normally saved her from confrontations with other Slytherins, kept her at bay from nosy, annoying teachers that seemed to care for her well-being, but against Skye, all control slipped away to nothingness.

”Can’t you see?”
India gripped her fists tightly inside her pockets, balls of shaking fury as she marched forwards down a path blindly, putting more and more distance between her and home, her and Skye. How dare she? How dare she ridicule the way she lived, the way she was? India was furious, to say the least, at Skye’s bold, daring attitude, how she could even possibly think of uttering those words to her face. Skye always acted so holier-than-thou, as if she knew best, as if she were the older twin. India snorted angrily, trying to vent her rage with every step she took that smashed against the pavement. Skye was not the boss of her. Oh no. If India didn’t want to eat dinner, well, she would very well not eat dinner. She could decide, and it wasn’t up to Skye to mother her at all. India was sixteen, almost seventeen, for Pete’s sake! Who did Skye think she was? Did she really care for India’s health? She highly doubted it. Why would anyone care about India after the way she treated everybody, especially Skye? India was sure her twin held nothing but loathing against her, despite her constant feeble attempts to make peace. Suddenly, her stomach groaned in protest, and India almost punched herself with irritation. ”No. No. I’ll just be sick now if I eat.”

India barely paid attention to her surroundings, the heat of the midday crashing onto her without even a second’s notice from the teenage girl as she rushed past unknown faces, unfamiliar places. She didn’t even realise she was gradually getting lost. Finally, when India snapped out of her angry reverie, she noticed that she was in a different area, one which she didn’t recognise at all, and sighing defeatedly to herself, cursed her self control and wandered around aimlessly, wasting the time of the day away. She’d find her own way home later. India couldn’t bear to face anyone right now, especially Skye and her constant jabs at her apparent food problem. Walking briskly into a secluded, almost abandoned park without much thought, India strode down the cemented path, head bowed low and glaring at the greyness of the floor as though it was the very bane of her poor existence, when she accidentally bumped into somebody. Without so much as a glance upwards at the person, or an apology or acknowledgement, India continued onwards. Perhaps as a Slytherin, she should’ve sarcastically commented “Oi, watch where you’re going!”, but then again, India wasn’t your average Slytherin, and never had been. She had walked a few steps further nonchalantly, eyes peeled towards the shoes of the person she had bumped into, when she realised he – from the looks of the shoes, a he – had ceased movement, and before she knew it, her name was uttered in surprise.

Turning back, blinking repeatedly, India’s eyes met a familiar face of a boy she acknowledged was from Hogwarts. His taller frame shadowed hers as she narrowed her eyes in recognition, gazing upwards at brunette hair. “Drake.” India remarked emotionlessly after a pause, collecting her thoughts. If he were to address her by her first name, she would give him the same credit. India didn’t know Drake Manning very well, since he was in the year above, and she didn’t socialise as it was, but he was a Slytherin, one she glimpsed every now and again. It helped (or did it?) that Drake had some sort of a reputation, and India, ever observant, knew more about him than she let on. It was well known the older boy was a player, one that had gotten around a lot. India, quite frankly, hated men. Especially those of his kind and reputation. Her outlook of Drake had been pretty abysmal since she had heard of his apparent personality, and she hadn’t bothered to check her opinions out for herself. It wasn’t like she would ever socialise with him anyway. But apparently, fate had other plans for her, and here she was, standing in the middle of nowhere… Okay, the middle of a park, it seemed… with this guy she was supposed to apparently abhor because he was a player. India would’ve kept her opinion of Drake up too, if it hadn’t been for the odd, almost dazed look on his face, the quiet way in which he had spoken her first name as though they were acquaintances. India didn’t question why he knew her name – people their age rarely didn’t – but was suddenly uncomfortable under Drake’s scrutiny. Perhaps he wasn’t the guy she had thought he was. He didn’t look it, anyway. And suddenly, her foolish, too trusting side surfaced after a long hard fight against Skye, and India found her words tumbling out of her mouth before she could stop herself. “Um… Are you okay?” Although it was a caring question of sorts, India didn’t sound the least bit interested, as her coldness maintained despite her inner walls.

India supposed the two of them had been caught in a rather weak moment.

[Drake Manning]

"Yeah... fine," he replied, barely above a whisper. Drake wondered why he even stopped, or more so why India stopped as well. Instinct, he supposed. If anything could help Drake escape, that something always seemed to be a girl. But part of him didn't think that it was for this reason that he stopped when passing India. He couldn't really figure out what reason it would have been though.

"And you?" he questioned, still staring quite dazed at India who stood before him. There it was again: Drake's natural ability to let on as though he really cared. It had become such a part of him that he was losing the control to turn it on or off. Maybe he really was starting to care. Yeah right, he thought. Nothing is worth caring about. Watching her as silence enveloped them, Drake felt a sudden urge to break the uncomfortable awkwardness. "You want to join me for a drink or something?" he questioned, again recognizing his patterns at work. Pretend you care. Offer your company. Escape. He wondered why he even fought it sometimes. He knew, as well as everyone else who heard the rumors of Drake Manning, that he had been sucked into a spiraling tornado in which there seemed to be no true escape. He would simply keep spinning downward and downward until one day...

Her voice broke his thoughts. In his own world of thinking, he hadn't really heard her reply though. He heard her voice, but the words never registered. "Was that a yes?" he questioned, trying to hide the fact that he was lost in thought. He figured she probably thought him crazier than what she might have already. Rolling his eyes, Drake put up his hand to prevent her from having to answer him again. "Look, I'm sorry," he apologized. Where was this coming from... an apology? When did Drake ever apologize. "I'm sure you know all about me and my reputation," he added, emphasizing quite bitterly his last word. You are crazy, Drake, his inward thoughts still swam in between the outward conversation he offered India. "Anyways, I'm sorry if I wasted your time, really, I wouldn't blame you if you just slapped me and walked away."

He stopped, thoughts still flooding his mind. Was this all just another part of his ploy, or did India really catch him at a rare moment of his? Drake stood, confused, as he waited for her reaction. He couldn't help but wonder what was really going on inside of him. Black. White. This time, life had caught him in a state of gray.

[India Nightingale]

India frowned a little as Drake said – no – he whispered that he was fine. Making him sound not fine at all, coupled with that strange dazed expression on his face. It seemed so un-Drake-like, though India couldn’t say she knew him well enough to be the judge of that. Yet, most Slytherins usually had a forced look of defiance, anger, annoyance, pride… if not on their visage, glittering in their eyes. It was all those kind of emotions that was normally plastered across their lovable faces. That was, after all, what made Slytherins Slytherins. India decided to rectify herself, that odd moment when she had strangely felt concerned for this stranger, by folding her arms slowly, protectively, across her chest, staring Drake in the eye in a defiant, disbelieving manner. “You’re not very good at lying.” She stated coldly, brushing some black out of her face. She wondered how coincidental it was to meet Drake out here in this unknown area. She rarely ever bumped into someone from Hogwarts out of school, and was glad of it. India stared in incredulity as Drake continued to ask her how she was, as though he cared. Why did people have to pretend to care? Because no one cared about India Nightingale. Originally she would’ve thought he was hitting on her, because she bore female anatomy and he was meant to be a player, plus she was probably on his “to-do” list, since she’d never really talked to him before. That would’ve caused her to give him a good slap round the face and storm away from him, hoping against hope never to bump into him again, but Drake had that same odd look in his eyes, as though he wasn’t quite aware of his surroundings and his company. He didn’t seem to be hitting on her at all; guys were meant to be smoother than this when flirting, right? “Better than you from the looks of it.” India deadpanned in reply, sniffing. “Are you drunk, Drake?”

India’s eyes almost popped out of her eye sockets when Drake seemed to dismiss, or not even hear, her icy words, and proceeded to dangerously ask her if she wanted to “join him for a drink or something”. India could’ve spluttered out some nonsense in shock at his invitation if she wasn’t such a cold, composed person, but her eyes gave her disbelief away as usual. If this wasn’t flirting, if this wasn’t hitting on her, India didn’t know what was. But Drake was doing it in such a weird manner. How had girls fallen under this awful charm? It was like he didn’t care at all, head stuck in the clouds. Perhaps he really was drunk. Guys normally didn’t attempt to come onto India; not those she didn’t know, anyway. Men at Hogwarts knew her from her reputation, and stayed clear, and India didn’t get out much at home, so she normally didn’t receive any advances. She wasn’t used to this, so she supposed this was probably all men’s terrible ways. Drake certainly wasn’t upping her view of men at all. “Look, Drake, as flattered as I am…” India began sarcastically, glaring coldly at her company without relent. “I don’t think I’m your type. I’m no one’s type. Everyone knows that, use your common sense. Do I have a reputation for nothing? What makes you think I’d go for a drink with you? And plus I don’t drink. Such a trivial time wasting thing.” India rolled her eyes to the heavens, the sun gleaming down on their figures. “Go find somewhere else to pick up a girl. I never realised you were this desperate.”

India was about to turn away, glad she had reeled in the urge to punch Drake’s dazed face in and wanting to get away as far as possible from this creepy boy, when she heard his next words and froze. Yes? Yes?! “Did you hear a word of what I just said, Manning?” India hissed as she turned on him, stepping one step closer, though not able to help reverting to using his last name as a way of distancing herself emotionally. India was about to have a good, proper go at Drake for randomly approaching her out of school and harassing her for no good reason, when his apology shocked through her very core. ”Look, I’m sorry.” India’s fists laxed as she stared at him now tremulously, the disbelief, confusion and revulsion obvious in her clear eyes. Why had Drake just apologised? He had seemed to hit on her, never heard her own talking, which was just plain rude, and now he was saying sorry. What was he sorry for though? Everything? India snorted inwardly. People always used such a trivial word and hoped everything would mend itself. The numerous times Alison had apologised to her using the same words echoed in India’s mind through her past, and although her innocent self had believed her foster mother back then, India knew better now.

India didn’t believe in saying sorry anymore.

India was about to relay this little bit of information to Drake with pursed lips, when his bitter tone in his next sentence stopped her again. This older boy was full of surprises. It was like he was taking her on a roller coaster ride of emotions against India’s own will. And he didn’t even realise it, still that dazed expression plastered on his face. Finally, India subjected to the thought that Drake might be going through some… difficult time or something. Like her. Just like her. There were people out there like India, she knew that, she just didn’t want to accept it. India had to admit, she understood where Drake’s bitterness was coming from now. She too had a reputation, a reputation which wasn’t necessary right, and one that although protected her, hurt her at the same time. Those gossiping people knew nothing of her, how could they judge her like that? So somehow, India’s resolve softened, her posture relaxed if only a little. Understanding was a powerful emotion. Coolly, India sighed hearing his second apology, and turned back to Drake one final time, hoping he would hear her out properly. She didn’t talk a lot, and when she did, she hated a single word to be wasted. “Drake.” She addressed her peer with a sigh firmly, coldly this time, neglecting to use his surname. “Everyone wastes my time. I waste my own time. Since we’re both wasting time, you might as well come and waste time with me. A drink. On me.” She didn’t bother to accept his apology publicly, didn’t mention her pre-need to slap him and now she didn’t want to anymore, didn’t let herself parry back about his reputation. India turned and walked in the direction she had been going, gently bumping the taller boy in the shoulder. Looking back, she smirked at Drake’s figure. “Are you coming then?”

((Btw. Despite your thinking…? I think you play Drake very well indeed. He’s some character. ))

[Drake Manning]

Although still a bit in a haze, Drake heard India loud and clear the second time around. Her tone was obviously less than friendly, and as if he couldn't even help himself though, Drake smiled at her hostile approach. His smile gradually turned into a soft laugh and then into a more hysterical kind of laugh. It wasn't a laugh that made him look completely mad, but it was definitely a bit on the crazed side. With his laughing died down and his apology offered, Drake looked back toward India who had now stepped closer to him, surely becoming more irritated by the moment.

Expecting a verbal lashing, Drake flinched just slightly when India spoke again. He had to pause for a few seconds before realizing that she was actually accepting his offer, even if in a rather cold tone of voice. Better than accepting though, India was almost returning the invitation by offering to buy Drake a drink instead. He shook his head and let out another short round of laughs. How do you do it, Drake? he thought.

As India brushed past him, Drake realized he must have been standing frozen in his place for a moment too long when she questioned if he was coming or not. "How can I turn down some more wasted time over a drink?" he asked rhetorically with a raise of his brows. Turning, Drake began following after India, catching up as she was walking rather pointedly to a location Drake wasn't quite sure of. He had a fair knowledge of the area, but wasn't all that familiar.

"You know a good place?" he asked as they walked. With his habits of drinking and such, Drake should have surely known a good place to get a drink. He had his favourite spots though, and none of them were nearby. Sometimes it was good to get away from his usual places too, since the people in other places wouldn't know him. As much as he was prideful in his reputation, Drake always enjoyed the rare chance to get away from it, even if for a moment. India, though, was bound to know at least some of Drake's reputation, yet still, she had agreed to join him for a drink. Better yet, Drake somehow had managed to get her to present it as if it were her idea.

((Bah... I hope you're right. Sometimes I just feel like it's so hard to capture Drake as I imagine him to be. Hopefully you are able to work with this post... I kind of felt repetitive... ))

[India Nightingale]

India shook her head to herself as she turned away from Drake and continued onwards, not sure what exactly she was doing. She always did random things so spontaneously; her life didn’t feel like it had any cycle to it. Her company was definitely a weird one. Drake’s maniacal laughter still rang loud and clear in her ears, and India wondered subconsciously when it had been the last time she had so freely laughed like that, even if it was a little crazily. Laughter seemed so foreign to India… Like an emotion out of a fairytale. Even with Duke India didn’t laugh. Not properly. She chuckled, more like... Even if she did laugh, India faked it mostly, unsure of how to respond to some of Duke’s words. A hand rested on her lips for a second, before they fell down to her side again as Drake caught up with her, seemingly accepting her offer as a companion. India shrugged to herself inwardly, wondering what made this guy tick. Men were odd creatures. What had inspired her to ask him to come along with her, anyway? Well, mainly because India honestly had nothing better to do. What better than indulge yourself in annoying men when you felt so down and needing an escape from reality? It had been a while since India had been in the company of another guy as well, and Drake’s attitude had intrigued her if a little.

India felt more than saw Drake fall into step beside her, but didn’t spare him another glance. Instead, her gaze was trained fixedly on the pavement in front of her with every step she took. When walking, India never looked up and around at her surroundings, preferring to stare blindly at the floor as though transfixed by the greyness of the cement. India thought to herself how the colour grey really was odd. It was the balance between black and white… the half way mark. The in-between. But India had never believed in in-betweens. There was either black or white. You were either corrupted or pure, there was no other alternative. India was black. Skye was white. They couldn’t meet each other half way, because no such thing existed… Not in India’s world. So why did the colour grey exist? It was such a monotonous colour, unlike the bright glare of the pure white, and it wasn’t as dark and cold as black. What was its existence for? What was her existence for?

India soon forgot the matter of grey’s existence as she inclined her head a little to stare at Drake out of the corner of her eyes as he spoke, drawing herself out of the daze she had been in, her beady gaze steady and firm. “No.” India deadpanned without batting an eyelid. “I said it before. I don’t drink. Though you obviously never listen when girls talk to you about themselves.” India snorted derisively, shaking her head and letting her waves of black cascade over her shoulder, before continuing onwards in the same cold tone. “I was expecting you to come up with the ‘good place’.” India smirked at Drake, her gaze then sweeping around the area they were in. “I don’t even know where I am. One minute I’m at home, the next I’m here. Happens. You’d better know where you’re going, cause I certainly don’t.” India shrugged nonchalantly, knowing she was very lost, because she didn’t recognise this town at all. Not that she cared much, but… How far had she walked? How long for? She didn’t even remember when she had had that argument with Skye… It seemed such a long time ago, the memories vague and fuzzy. Clutching her head, India halted walking for a moment, suppressing a rising groan of pain. ”Weathering away… Killing yourself…”

“Shut up.” India muttered aloud with a frown.

((It isn't a problem. I'm able to work India much better with Drake than with anyone else so far, so it's fine. If you have any ideas of how to continue this post, do PM me. I'm not sure where you want to go from here, and I have some ideas if need be. ))

[Drake Manning]

They walked in silence for a few moments, Drake keeping in stride with India who seemed to be in a world of her own. He didn't mind though; sometimes it was hard for him to make conversation. In fact, Drake rarely wasted his time with words when it came to girls. He used them effectively when necessary, but he often felt he had more success with the theory that actions spoke louder than words. It was a common saying that he assumed had worked for him so far, why stop now?

Finally, India admitted to having no clue where they were going. She went on to ridicule his flawed listening skills as well. Drake was about to shoot a comment back when she cut him off. Apparently, she expected him to be leading them somewhere. I'm the one following you, he thought, but kept silent and started walking as though he had magically acquired an end destination for the two of them. India continued with some more nonsense rambling about being lost, and he sensed a bit of vulnerability in her words. Drake's eyes widened a bit at the thought of vulnerability. It was his friend, or at least he used it as one. Vulnerability meant that he, Drake, could then appear more in control. What vulnerable person didn't want someone to help them?

Shaking out of his inner thoughts, Drake saw a saloon ahead of them. He recognized it from having been there a rare few times in his past. It was one of the places that was dark and secluded though- not a place he would go if he were searching for company. India already having joined him though, Drake figured it would do. Anywhere that could give him a bit of alcohol to numb reality would be a good start. "Over h..." he began, interrupted by a distraught sounding India.

"I beg your pardon," he said, casting a steely glare toward India. "You tell me that I'm supposed to find a good place and two seconds later you're telling me to shut up?" Drake looked over her with confusion, trying to figure her out. She didn't seem to be with him, at least not mentally, he assessed. "Come on now," he added with a snort, starting to gain more confidence as the moments passed. It was an odd feeling; Drake wasn't sure whether it was good or bad, but he always noticed how he seemed to gain strength from others' weaknesses. Even if it wasn't a weak moment of India's, just imagining someone else to be weak seemed to give Drake the strength he needed, the strength to numb his conscious and turn him into the lost and empty person that ruled his life.

Grabbing India somewhat firmly by the arm, Drake led her toward the saloon. The gray had faded, behind, it left only black.

[India Nightingale]

India registered Drake was talking, his lower male voice banging against her thoughts as she struggled to come to her senses, but they didn’t register in her mind whatsoever. Her legs shook uncontrollably, the black fishnet tights and matching skirt that flowed just above her knees making her look even thinner than usual. Jerkily, India clenched a fist and moved her arm to shadow her eyes in a sordid attempt to protect herself. It was then she felt someone else’s grip on her arm, and her hand was dragged away from her face as Drake pulled her along with him somewhere, down the path in the park. Where were they going along this journey of grey, India wondered as she stumbled behind Drake, eyes plastered wildly to the concrete ground. She just let him do his will to her as she weakly followed him, unsure of herself and the memories that plagued her mind like a sorry ghost…

India felt a shudder travel up her spine as she thought back to Skye, how far away her twin was probably right now. Was Skye worrying about her at this very moment in time? Did she wonder where her darling sister had gone? No, India thought bitterly. That couldn’t be possible. It wasn’t like India ever worried about Skye. Why would things happen vice versa? Though somewhere in India’s heart, she felt like somebody out there right now was in pain; hurting because of her. And because of that, the strain her in chest magnified. Why did India bother to care? Caring only hurt you. So shutting out that little inner voice that whispered at the back of her mind, cramming it into a little box and throwing it into oblivion, India rose back to reality fitfully, still being pulled along forcefully by Drake.

India’s eyes settled at first on Drake’s back. Travelled up to his brunette hair, the down to his legs. Slithered along his lean arm to find it attached tightly to hers. Widened in shock and misunderstanding. Why was Drake tugging her along so hard? Where was he taking her? Why was he even touching her?! Finally realising that someone else other than Duke was even remotely making contact with her skin, her arm’s sensitive skin suddenly extremely aware of Drake’s firm grip, India began to struggle to free herself from him wildly. “Hey, let go of me! Hey!” India protested in anger, hiding her fear and rising panic. She really didn’t like people touching her. Especially without her permission. India was all too aware of his warm hand against her cold skin, hated the feel of another man so close in proximity. What if Drake got too close? What if he ended up hurting her? Maybe he was the player she had been so sure that he was. “Drake, let me go!” India yelled as a hint of desperation crept up her tight throat. She felt tears threaten to spill, but squashed them down stubbornly. He was too powerful to overcome, and India just couldn’t stand up to him physically. So Drake continued to drag her along as India cried for him to stop. “Wait… Let me go! Stop, Drake!” India gave a final scream, before finally dislodging herself from his grasp, flinging herself backwards with wild, wide eyes as she cowered unashamedly before him, eyeing Drake with something more than anger.

“Where are we?” India demanded, before she noticed Drake’s gaze turn to something beside her, and also flinging her body around, India finally realised they were in front of a saloon-bar type of sorts. Blinking repeatedly in awkward silence, India managed to process the information quickly enough to realise that Drake had managed to steer them to a place where they could indeed get a drink through her own almost drunken-like stupor. “I… I…” India’s voice stumbled a little as she fought for self-control and her damaged pride. Trying to restrain herself from flushing, India haughtily flung her head of black back and purposefully avoided Drake’s eye as she stepped forward and walked into the saloon, as though nothing had happened. She forgot to finish her sentence as a door yielded before her and India pushed her way through, her eyes narrowing as she gazed upon the insides of the saloon suspiciously. She rarely visited places like these. There was never any need. “You coming?” India muttered under her breath as she moved into the darkness.

[Drake Manning]

At first, it seemed as though India was willingly following Drake to the bar. Their footsteps echoed through the empty streets, the sky turning a darker shade of gray as the sun's last rays were hidden behind the line of buildings that edged the paved road. Her cries of anger were the first sounds that broke the silence, and then Drake felt India squirm to free herself from his grip. The weak attempts did little good though as Drake held fast to her arm, nearing the entrance of the darkened pub. She protested that he let her go, but Drake said nothing in return. He figured once they were inside a few drinks would help to calm her down and she'd later thank him.

Once they were about to enter the place, India suceeded in freeing herself from Drake's grip with one last scream of protest. He simply eyed her fearful face, wondering if she would do something like run away. He didn't think he had been that frightening, however India looked as though she was watching a ghost. Her pale skin looked even whiter than possible and her eyes were lost, searching for what, Drake hadn't a clue.

"Have you already been drinking?" Drake asked, when India questioned their location. "Or are you just crazy?" he added, as she began mumbling to herself, then turning and entering the bar. He figured she hadn't heard him, and so he simply followed when she asked if he was coming. Trailing behind her, Drake noticed that India's dark hair and clothing made her blend in with the dark atmosphere. There were only a few dim lights and, surprisingly, the bar was rather empty. A few loners starred at them from the barstools, but other than that, Drake and India were of the few people who were actually there at a somewhat early hour of the evening. He figured the business would pick up as the night passed.

As they passed an empty booth, Drake took his jacket and threw it onto one of the benches. He pointed with his head toward the other bench. "Have a seat. I can get our drinks," he said to India, who still looked somewhat lost. "What sounds good?" he questioned, not really waiting for an answer before approaching the barman. "Two of the house specials," he ordered, not really caring what the drink was, as long as it served its purpose. Drake loved to escape, and that's what drinking helped him to do. Sliding his money across the bar, he paid for the drinks and returned to the booth.

"It will make it better," he said, handing India her drink as he gulped down some of his own. The alcohol burned as it passed down his throat, and almost instantly he led himself to believe that he was beginning to find the freedom he always found in a drink. "Come on, it's not that bad," he added, seeing that India seemed reluctant.

[India Nightingale]

India felt Drake following her again as she entered the bar, a little tense at the situation she was in with this fellow Slytherin. However, her body tensed even more as her eyes scanned the dark room, falling on lone figures drinking their afternoon away. India had rarely been in places like these, and although she felt at home within the darkness, the strangers surrounding her frightened her. However, as Drake walked towards an empty booth, leading India to a seating area, she felt herself relax a little. Something so trivial could not scare her so easily, and she had Drake by her side if need be. Somehow, she felt protected. Though it had to be to said, India was not in her element in an environment such as this, and perhaps it showed on her face as Drake told her to sit down. Hesitantly, she did as he requested, not sure what was making her listen to him at all. India was usually the rebellious type, she hated doing what others wanted her to do. Sometimes though, her resolve weakened in the face of some others. She hated to think Drake was one of these people.

Drake was asking her what she wanted, and India stared up at him blankly. She wasn’t lying when she said she had never drank before; although she had been of age for a while now, and Duke drank quite a bit himself and offered her some, India had never taken up on his suggestion. What was making her say yes now? Before India could voice her thoughts to Drake, to tell him anything would do and she didn’t care (and had he already forgotten that she had never drank before? This man was unbelievable! How on earth had be received such a reputation India didn’t know), he had already approached the barman to buy the drinks. She heard his order clearly from her position; the bar was literally empty, for which India was thankful for; she had no idea what Drake had just gotten for her, but tried not to care. He was buying them after all. India wasn’t about to complain. A little part of her was nervous, rather frightened at the prospect of drinking, but then another thought crossed her mind. She was no angel. She was old enough already. And she was not scared of alcohol either, was she? Duke did it often enough. Skye didn’t.

India looked up as Drake returned with glasses in hand, and took hers somewhat reluctantly still without thanking him. She blamed it on Drake’s company, how at ease he seemed to be with her, and that unnerved her if only a little. No one was meant to feel comfortable around India, she was known for scaring people away. Staring at the liquid as though it was poisonous, India pondered again what on earth she was doing here. The alcohol seemed to taunt her as it sloshed against the sides of the glass, her hand trembling a little. Drake’s voice cut through her thoughts though, and she stared up at him with wide eyes. It would make it better? India frowned a little. What did Drake mean? Then she remembered all those pep talks you got from teachers not to do drugs and alcohol and whatever back when she was in primary school, to do things in moderation, or perhaps not do them at all. Gripping her glass tighter, India wondered if this alcohol substance would drain her worries and woes away, as rumour said it did. She continued to stare at Drake emotionlessly as he took a gulp of his drink, and looked at her as though she was crazy.

Hearing Drake’s words, India looked down at the full glass again, before sighing softly to herself. “Are you sure it’ll make everything better, Drake?” India murmured quietly as her eyes were lost to the swirling of the liquid again. However, before waiting for an answer from Drake, India tightened her resolve and brought the glass to her lips, tilting her head and letting the alcohol flow down her throat easily. Immediately India felt a strong burning sensation against her tongue, along her throat, and tasted something somewhat bitter, but pleasant at the same time. Swallowing with closed eyes, even though India was sure her brain didn’t want to drink this substance, she reopened her orbs, blinking. She could still taste the bitter aftertaste the alcohol left, and although it wasn’t too agreeable, India felt she could get used to it. It was already making her feel lightheaded, and although it didn’t taste nice, the sensation it gave her was close to heavenly. And she’d only had one gulp of it. Glancing over at Drake, India smirked dryly. “It tastes like crap.” One worry down, India thought as she lifted the glass to her lips again and taking another long draught. She could already feel her inhibitions slip away, the anger and bitterness she felt towards Skye fade into the background. Right now it was her, Drake and this thing called alcohol. India wasn’t going to complain. “But it sure makes you high.” India almost giggled, though managed to suppress it, before draining the rest of her glass. Plonking it down on the table, her eyes dizzying her vision a little, India managed to gasp out. “Another one. Now.”

[Drake Manning]

Almost as though her initial fear simply slipped away, India asked Drake if he was sure of what he told her about it making everything better. He was about to answer when she took a drink anyways. Drake almost laughed at her reaction, and then had to remind himself that it was her first time. "Yeah, I'm sure," he commented, shaking his head with a smirk on his face. Tipping his own glass, Drake finished his drink off just before India downed the rest of hers.

"That high," he added, referring to the feeling that India mentioned, "is well worth the crappy taste." Drake raised his brow when India demanded another. Not many girls were so adamant about drinking more than one. Normally, Drake would just bring the drinks back and they would eventually have more than one. Rarely did they ask for more. "You can handle another?" he asked rhetorically and almost sarcastically. India was rather thin, and, if she wasn't accustomed to the drinking, Drake knew she probably wouldn't be able to take too much before loosing some of her competency. Before waiting for an answer though, Drake left the booth again, returning with four more drinks. Even if India couldn't drink more than one more, Drake figured he'd have no problem finishing off the rest. After all, it was his way of life. His way of survival.

"So... India..." Drake drawled, thinking of a way he might be able to make conversation. Drake was terrible at this. Drinking sometimes made it easier though as he was less worried about what he might say. "... you don't drink?" Drake couldn't help but stray from what had already been established. "I mean, I'm just curious how someone like you doesn't drink." Drake knew he sounded stereotypical, but he didn't care. "Aside from maybe me, you have one of the worst reputations of all the Slytherins I know. How is it that someone so bad is so sober? Do you even have any friends? I'd think that being lonely would surely mean that you'd tried drinking at least once..." Knowing his words were blunt and possibly harsh, Drake didn't care. He tipped his glass again, setting it down then beside the other empty ones. "Any better yet?"

[India Nightingale]

“It sure is.” India nodded her approval at Drake’s comment with a smirk as she watched him get up for seconds. He soon returned with more alcohol, to which India found herself smiling slightly, and answering Drake’s previous challenge before extending a hand out to take a glass. “Of course I can handle it. There’s not much I can’t handle after…” She trailed off with an unhidden frown creasing her forehead, glass half way to her mouth. India had almost said Skye’s name, the word echoing throughout her mind like a haunting memory. She had almost blabbed something very close to her heart, how she hated life, how she felt unloved and unwanted. For one split second, India had almost confessed to Drake, a stranger, how difficult she found existence to be. She had never, ever even admitted this to herself. She thought she could do it all alone. India had been through a lot, but she didn’t tell people that. Because it meant she was weak. They’d probably worked it out anyway, or thought her a little psycho. Shaking her head dismissively, India replaced her frown with her usual smirk. “Whatever. If I say I can handle it, I can handle it. Trust me.” She downed the second glass to half way easily, ignoring the dizzying effects the alcohol had on her brain. A small voice in the back of her mind reminded her that she had said she’d treat him to this. Though it seemed he was doing all the buying right now. Blinking, India’s hand moved to rummage in her pockets, and finally reappeared with her black purse. Snapping it open, she gazed into it.

“I don’t have muggle cash. Hope this’ll cover the cost.” India drawled sluggishly as she tossed Drake a couple of wizard coins. “I don’t usually hang around muggle places anyway. Never was any need for the English pound.” She snorted derisively before taking another sip. India eyed Drake, wondering if he understood what the money was for, then decided to save him the trouble of thinking. “I did say I’d treat you.” She stated with a smirk, before the second glass of alcohol was also empty beside the first. “Can’t break a promise now, can I?” She thought she heard her words slur if only a little, but ignored it. Wasn’t a big deal, right?

India heard Drake’s voice beside her and glanced up at him again, her fingers moving automatically to another full glass on the table. If she wasn’t mistaken, his rather handsome face was becoming somewhat distorted. “Nope. Not usually.” India found herself half smirking, half grinning, shrugging rather carelessly. “Never did think it was a good idea. Don’t know how I came to that conclusion!” India gave a wry bark of laughter, before taking a long draught of the drink in her hands. She listened to Drake’s words absently, before finding herself laughing again, this time in short spurts of very uncharacteristic giggles. “Drake, you’re funny. What makes you think I’m bad?” India placed her half full glass on the table to gaze at him somewhat seriously. “Do I look bad to you? And what exactly have you heard about me, eh? I’m quite interested. I’ve even heard someone say I was a drug user.” She gave a nonchalant shrug. “Furthest thing from the truth. Rumours are all a load of crap. I quite like my reputation though. Keeps people away from me, you know? They’re all scared, the idiots. Though I’m quite soft. Honest.” India smirked to herself as she let her head fall into her hands and took a breather.

“To be honest, I’m nothing like what my reputation usually has people thinking about me.” India finally mumbled after resurfacing, her hands going straight for the alcohol again. “I may be all scary and whatever, but most Slytherins are. It’s a general conception. I’m not bad at all. I get top grades. I just don’t get on with people, cause I don’t like them. I don’t like anyone. Humans are stupid. They just hurt you and leave you for dead. Take my parents for example. The idiots went and died! Died! In a fire. When I was barely even one years old. And then we got taken into foster care, and those godforsaken ‘parents’ or ours didn’t even bother telling us until Alison’s new boyfriend forced her to spill the truth. And then they died too. In a fire.” India laughed sadistically, though she didn’t really find it funny at all. “The children’s home was crap. I don’t care what people think, but you’d think those selfish gits would leave you alone. They didn’t. Then Duke… wonderful Duke appeared out of nowhere, and took us in.” India’s eyes levelled with Drake’s. “I suppose you already know ‘we’ means Skye and me. Skye. You’ve probably heard about her. Doesn’t speak a word. Never has done since we were eight or something. I really, really hate her.” India gulped again in a short pause. “Bane of my life. Hate her. That’s why people think I’m so bad. Cause I really, really hate her. And everyone likes her and pities her. She’s the epitome of perfection!” India threw her arms up in irritation, unaware of her rambling and the alcohol going to her head. “But I suppose you’re reputation is just as… wonderful as mine.” India muttered with a smirk after some silence. “So what’s your story then? Is it true, the stuff about you being a player, or something? Is it just as honest as mine is? I highly doubt it. Gossiping freaks.” India cursed her fellow students mentally. “Of course I don’t have any friends. Do you? I hate all people. Did I mention that? Probably not…” India sighed softly. “I have Devil to keep me company. My cat. I don’t need booze. I don’t need anything or anyone else.” India’s voice was suddenly hard and flinty, but it faded at Drake’s next question. “Oh yeah. Loads better.” She gave a dry laugh, her tone somewhat sarcastic.

[Drake Manning]

Drake watched as the familiar course began to unfold. Time after time, he would sit and see one girl after another willingly drink glass after glass. Then they began to loosen up, began to calm down, and began to share their secrets. But India... India seemed different than all the rest. Drake couldn't pinpoint just how, but she was. Silently, Drake listened rather curiously as India began to spill her stories. Had she been completely sober, she might have noticed that Drake was intent on hearing what she had to say, but she had been so caught up in spilling herself out to him that she probably didn't even realize he was listening so closely.

After India tried paying him for the drinks as she said she would, Drake allowed her to finish the long-winded speech she let out. Then, he slowly pushed the money back across the table to her. "You never said that you'd pay," he lied. "Just keep your money." He didn't figure that she would argue with him. Most drunk people never argued unless it was over something stupid. Drake had found that you could pretty much convince someone who had been drinking anything that you wanted. It also made him wonder though if people did that to him. Shaking it off, Drake reminded himself that he had developed a control over the alcohol, a semi-tolerance to its effects.

After hearing India speak about her past and of her reputation, Drake paused for a moment before responding. He found India to be rather interesting, someone so different than all of the others, and he couldn't help but get himself sucked into her presence. "I know about Skye," he began. It was true, Skye was the central point of much of the rumors concerning India. It reminded him of the child's tale that his mother would tell him about the two sisters: one, more beautiful than anyone else and with a terrible sickness; the other an evil and selfish girl who despised her sister and envied her beauty. When given the chance to help heal her sick sister, the evil sister instead tricked her sister and stole her beauty, leaving her to die and living the rest of her life pretending the be the beautiful sister. Eventually, the evil sister's personality shown through though, and her beauty that she had stolen faded. Drake knew it was only similar in ways to what India was saying, but he couldn't help but make some connections. India may have seemed dark, but he couldn't help but think that she was telling the truth when she explained that she really wasn't all that bad.

"I know about Skye," he said again, connecting his thoughts between the drawn out silence, "but I didn't know about the fires." Drake processed the information for a while. "Maybe that's why they say that the devil lives in you," he offered with a teasing smirk. "I mean the fires, and you hating people, and to top it off, your cat is named Devil. It can't all be coincidence." Drake took the last glass of alcohol before India could beat him to it. He drank half of it and wished that maybe sometimes he could escape like he used to be able to. Now, it was more of the idea of drinking that helped him to escape more than the alcohol itself. At India's bringing up his reputation, Drake's eyes narrowed. He didn't like to talk about it. Perhaps it was shame, or perhaps it was himself trying to ignore that his past really did have a solid grasp on his life. "So what about my story?" he questioned defensively. "Do you believe everything you've heard? I mean, if you do believe it all, why the heck are you here with me now?" Drake eyed her for a moment, tense, but then slowly began to calm down when he realized she was probably just making conversation. "So what if I am a player," he said, a little less defensively. "It's not like girls aren't willing to go out with me. Can you blame me for their mistakes of playing with fire?" He used the play on words purposely, wanting to test India. Why had she agreed to join him anyways. Maybe she really was just as lonely as himself. Or maybe she was just wanting to see Drake's reputation first hand. "Another?" he asked, seeing that all of their glasses were almost empty.

((I added the PG-13 warning just because I thought maybe all of the references to drinking and perhaps Drake's reputation might be enough to earn a PG-13 rating. Better safe than sorry. )

[India Nightingale]

((No problem. It’s very sensible of you to do so, and I should’ve really realised myself, lol. But yes, everybody. Please avert your virgin eyes. ))

India blinked as her eyes followed the movement of money over the table, until it came to rest on her side again. She was now having trouble processing significant, meaningful information through her mind, though she had no idea of this, and that the alcohol was inducing her drunken state. In fact, India was quite enjoying such a numbing high. It was an indescribable feeling, but a pleasant one. Blinking again as she absorbed Drake’s reply, she picked up the money from the table, mumbling a “Thanks” as she snapped her purse shut with wobbly fingers and pressed it into her pocket again.

“I thought you would.” India muttered quietly as she drained her third glass without hesitance. A grimance flashed across her face before it faded into a blank expression. Drake repeated his statement, and India tried to lift her head up to look at him. She may have been drunk, but the name of her twin still ignited emotions within India she didn’t like. “We’re one and the same.” India offered in a subdued tone before Drake continued. “Who does? It’s not as if I go around telling people that every person who has ever socialised with me closely died in fires.” India had taken a sharp U-turn, her voice flipping from anger and irritation to a sorrowful sadness that was evident in her tone. Her flaring emotions had drained away to leave that usual loneliness aching in her heart, magnified by the alcohol even though it was numbing her in other ways. India suddenly felt the huge urge to tell Drake everything. Everything.

“Maybe that’s why.” India agreed tiredly with a slight nod of her head. “I don’t believe in ‘God’, but if there was one, I’m sure he hates me. I was destined to be hated by everybody I meet. I’m destined to be alone.” India forced a laugh, but it came out hollow and fake. “I called Devil ‘Devil’ because of Alison, my foster parent. Her surname was ‘Angel’, and belonged to me too until I changed it to Nightingale, my real surname. I hated ‘Angel’, and I hated Alison, though the feeling was mutual.” India smirked bitterly. “I always hated connotations involving angels and purity, so I named my cat to show how much I despised innocence. Plus Skye reminds of me of an angel too. She’s too good. Too naive. Wheras me? I’m tainted. The devil, like you say...” India trailed off to let Drake speak again.

India chuckled softly as she let her hand wander up to her face and push a strand of black out of her eyes. It had fallen over them and obscured her vision, though the blurriness didn’t go completely. India learned not to question it. “That’s an awful pun.” India commented, a little amused as her words slurred a little. In reality she wouldn’t have found Drake’s words quite so funny; in fact, she would’ve probably slapped him across the face and stalked away from the bar. But anger had been replaced by other emotions now. India’s chuckles faded away into silence, until Drake broke it and offered more drinks. India nodded her approval, and waited for him to return in solitude. He was back before she could think, and she picked up a new glass without hesitance. Finally, she answered his question in a soft voice. “I don’t blame you. If you don’t blame me for being me, I’m not going to blame you for being you. I am a guilty participant in believing rumours generally. I know I shouldn’t, but ones concerning yours...” India flicked her hand around. “I don’t like men. I can’t trust them anymore... Whether or not they have rumours circling about them. That’s why I’ve always been wary of people like you. People... men... loved ones. All they do is hurt you. So much. But for some reason, like you said, I’m still sitting here, with you. Who would’ve thought?” India gave a soft smirk. “Maybe we’re just both lonely.” The words were out of her mouth before she even realised. India quickly shut it again.

[Drake Manning]

Drake always hated it when girls started talking about themselves. On and on they would drone, normally a response to the alcohol affecting their inhibitions. Drake would sit there, feigning interest, and wish the entire time that they would just shut up. He was selfish, he knew, and he frankly thought that everyone should care more about what he had to say. Tonight though, it was different. He actually found himself interested to hear the bizarre truths of India's life. Still, he acted as though he didn't care though, sure to maintain his hard-nosed demeanor.

India seemed to be like him, and Drake clung to that. She didn't appear to be like every other girl who tried convincing him how terrible their lives were when really they were just self-conscious and vulnerable to his methods. They were weak, not because of who they were, but weak because of who they tried to be. It was people like himself and India, Drake thought, that were truly strong for at least pretending that they were strong. The way Drake viewed it, everyone had their life, good or bad, and it was only how strong you acted that truly gave you the power to persevere. Drake's only problem, though he failed to admit it, was his constant feeling of loneliness. He drowned it out with alcohol, girls, and the idea that he really only needed himself.

Drake chose to ignore, at least outwardly, India's talk of her past. Everything registered in his mind, but he wasn't going to talk about it. Instead, he waited to comment when she brought up her fear of men, explaining that all they ended up doing was hurting her. "I won't deny it..." he began, shrugging his shoulders. "Guys, well, we tend to all be the same, deep down at least. Some aren't as willing to admit or embrace the fact, but we're all just selfish. Give us what we want, and we're happy. Of course, isn't all humanity like that? I mean, everybody is always looking out for number one if they'd only allow the blinders to be removed for just a quick glimpse into their true motivations."

"Why worry about it though? Is there even a point of being cautious? Sooner or later you're bound to end up hurt regardless. Even if it is, as you so willingly point out, a result of loneliness. Though, I'm not lonely," Drake lied to himself. "I don't need anybody, you or anybody else." Drake's face became stone-like as his mind processed his own words. He had been telling himself this lie every single time he found himself in a weak spot. He was weaker than he'd ever admit, but the stubborn part of him never allowed himself to accept it. Not now, not ever.

[India Nightingale]

“Humans are all selfish.” India nodded in agreement half-bitterly as her vision dimmed and blurred, suppressing an uncharacteristic giggle that threatened to spill. “I’m so tired…” She muttered more to herself than to Drake, shaking her head before his voice pulled her away from succumbing to the darkness overwhelming her senses. “Better to have never loved than to have loved at all.” India mumbled softly, tearing her eyes in shame away from Drake’s in answer to his question. “Right? People may think differently, but that’s how I see things. I can do lonely. I don’t need other people to lean on either.” India tried to stress the final part of her statement forcefully, but it faded away to quiet submission. “… So what if I have nothing and no one to live for? Do we really need a reason for our existence, Drake?” India questioned her companion almost forcefully, trying to push away the tears that begged to leak. Her hand grappled for a new glass of alcohol but soon realised there were no more. “Of course you don’t need me.” India whispered with a tight smile. “Who does?” A quiet chuckle disintegrated quickly.

“I’ll bet you anything you’re lying to me, Drake.” India started again, having forgotten the lack of alcohol at hand. She was feeling suitably numb anyway. She tried to keep her gaze steady on Drake’s face, but failed to do so as it dropped to his chest, then the table, then the dozen of empty glasses by their hands. “As a person who has nobody, who believes she can survive alone and likes it…” India lifted a wry smile of sorts onto her lips. “I know better than anyone else that people who say they’re not lonely are in fact lying, and are the most lonely people of all. You don’t have to argue with me. Even if you deny it, I know. God, I really know the feeling. And you can keep telling yourself the same thing over and over again, and you might convince yourself to believe it, but when you’re like this…” India indicated with a hand at herself loosely. “When you’re like this, is it just me, or this loneliness just magnifies tenfold.” India struggled not to laugh. “Drake, don’t you feel even more lonely right now sitting here with me?” India’s chuckling changed to panicky breaths. “Why do I feel more ‘me’ than ever? I have a feeling I would never say these things normally.” Clutching her head gently, India relapsed into silence and gave a mute groan. Her head was beginning to hurt.

“You know, Drake,” India began after a quick pause, not giving her companion any time to speak. She shifted her body closer to Drake shakily as she continued, letting her mouth open and close without much serious thought. “Since you said to not worry about getting hurt so much, and you obviously like your women, how about making me your next victim?” A cold, slender hand slipped unhesitantly onto Drake’s arm as India shuffled next to him. “Please?” She whispered softly with desperate, pleading eyes. “I need to forget. I need to not be lonely, even for one second. You’re lonely too, right? And you’re an expert. Right now I’m not worrying and I don’t care. It’s been too long since I’ve even gotten close to someone of the opposite sex.” These words sounded so foreign to India’s ears (obviously the alcohol working its magic throughout her senses), but somehow it felt right too. She would never be this submissive and pathetic. She would never beg. “Just… save me. From this loneliness.” India pressed again as her grip tightened a little around Drake’s wrist. “Please.” She felt so faint and exhausted, but before Drake could pull away, she instinctively leaned forwards in a fluid motion and brushed her lips chastely against Drake’s unsuspecting ones. It lasted for merely a second, and then the intimate contact was lost as India dropped unconscious against Drake’s side.

[Drake Manning]

"Ok," Drake said, acknowledging that maybe India had made a point. "Perhaps I am lonely, just perhaps. Who's to say though that I don't also like and welcome the loneliness, just like you say that you can do loneliness." He gave India a knowing look before adding, "but I'm not lonely, so it doesn't matter anyways." Drake would do anything he had to just to keep himself convinced that it was the truth. "I'm not lying," he said assuredly, watching as India seemed to be getting more and more affected by the alcohol that she had consumed. Drake had to laugh a bit at the thought, especially after India had adamantly insisted that she didn't drink. "So... you don't drink? I guess that held as much water as me saying that I don't like girls." Drake's cheeky grin was cut short though when India moved closer to him and quite frankly caught him off guard.

Drake watched as India inched closer, her eyes looking very empty and transfixed on him. The words that came from her mouth next were the last thing Drake expected. The alcohol had surely had a definite effect on India. "Victim..." Drake mouthed, part of him wondering if he should allow India to go on or if he should stop her from begging. He had never taken advantage of girls who were this intoxicated. Drake at least prided himself of allowing the girls to at least realize what they were getting themselves into. India was obviously under impaired judgment, because Drake knew that she would never in her right mind beg for him to make her his next 'victim'.

Before Drake could stop her though, India had basically thrown herself on him, even doing what he thought was an attempt to kiss him before she fell unconscious by his side. "India," he beckoned, trying to shake her to her senses. "Oh great, good one, Drake," he said to himself. "Go and get the girl so drunk that she passes out." He laid her on the seat of the booth, stood up and made sure to gather his and her belongings. When the barman wasn't looking, Drake took India's frail body into his arms and carried her outside. "India, wake up!" he said again under his breath. No response. Why had he allowed her to consume so much alcohol when she was obviously so underweight and not to mention a first time drinker if she was indeed telling the truth. Now, he was left to take care of her. Drake may have been a jerk, but he wasn't downright evil. Somebody had to tend to her, and as far as Drake knew, he was the only option. With a frustrated sigh, Drake disappeared into a nearby alley before gathering his concentration. He was just going to have to apparate her to his house. His parents should be in bed by now, and it wasn't like he hadn't sneaked to his room with a girl in the past. However, all of the other times, the girl was actually conscious. With as much concentration as he could muster, trying to avoid the affects that the alcohol had had on him, Drake and India in his arms disappeared with a crack, reappearing seconds later in the small kitchen of Drakes house.

The combination of the darkness, the alcohol, and India's limp body in his arms, Drake stumbled a bit, knocking up against the table and sending a metal pan clattering to the ground. "Bloody h..." he began, but was drowned out by a scream from his parents' room.

"Drake! Is that you?" the deep voice of his father bellowed from the downstairs hallway.

"Yes," he managed, trying to hurry to the staircase before his father found him holding India.

"You're late... we'll deal with you in the morning." Drake was grateful for his dad's laziness. He quickly scaled the staircase and disappeared into his room where he quickly laid India on his bed. He let out a sigh of relief and ran his fingers through his hair. Now what? He had never had to deal with bringing a girl home who wasn't actually aware of the fact that she was there. Drake went to his bathroom and took a glass of water. He splashed a bit of it on India's face, hoping it might bring her to. No luck. He checked her breathing to make sure she was even alive. Air. She wasn't dead. Drake looked in the mirror, figuring that there wasn't much more he could do except deal with it in the morning. Or, knowing his luck, India would wake up in the middle of the night, sober, and realize where she was. That would make an interesting conversation, Drake thought, rolling his eyes.

Stripping from his attire, Drake threw on a pair of pajama bottoms and then found a blanket in his closet. He covered India up with the comforter on his bed, and then took one of the two pillows. Something just didn't seem right about sharing the bed with her, despite there being enough room for the two of them. Instead, Drake took the extra pillow and blanket and crashed on the floor. He could only imagine what the morning would be like as he laid on the ground. Eventually sleep overcame him, and his mind fell to dreams; dreams filled with the thoughts of loneliness, and even thoughts of India.

[India Nightingale]

India’s dreams, for once in many years, were colourful; not vivid, delightful shades of red and orange; India’s dreams had never been bright. No, tonight they were in colour. Pale pastel tones surrounded her, seeped into her vision and blinded her with the purity of their colour. India had been dreaming in blacks, greys and whites since Skye’s accident, and she had almost forgotten the beauty of colour that once existed in dreams. A small smile lifted to her face as she glanced at her surroundings in awe, enjoying the tender warmth her body was receiving. There seemed to be no troubles here to plague India; she could relax in this haven, unhaunted by ghosts of the past that refused to rest until they were given salvation. For now, they were kept at bay. For once, India had found her salvation.

And that was how India woke up. Pleasant tingles of warmth tremored across her sensitive skin, and she sighed in contentment, a smile still lingering on her lips. She was aware of the covers pulled over her body, the comfortable bed she rested upon, and snuggled her face deeper into the plush pillow beneath her head. She inhaled the smell of her shampoo – mint and lavender (an odd combination, but that was why India liked it) – entwined with her black hair, and something else foreign to her nose. Suddenly, India was aware that her pillow certainly did not smell like this, nor was this her huge four-poster bed. Her eyes flung open immediately in surprise, and pale morning light flooded her vision. India was forced to blink several times to become familiarised to the brightness of day, until her eyes focused on a well-known face, one which caused India to stare in horror before retreating beneath the covers as far as the end of her side of this bed. She had been sleeping so close to him she could hear his every breath, sense the warmth emanating from his body. So there was her source of heat in her dream.

“Where am I?” India’s mouth was in an “O” shape, a silent gasp forcing its way out. Suddenly, she didn’t feel quite so warm and light anymore. India recognised Drake’s identity, but did not register how she was sleeping in the same bed as him. Her wild eyes scanned the unfamiliar room quickly, before finally resting on Drake’s sleeping face again. India’s eyes narrowed slightly as she tried to remember what had occurred, and finally vague and fuzzy memories flooded back, only to grant India little reassurance. She had drank far too much, she could recall as much; the bitter taste of alcohol slipping down her throat, the numb, floaty feeling that curled itself happily in the midst of her consciousness. India could barely believe now, as she thought back to yesterday – it was yesterday, right? – how she had let herself follow Drake into the pub, and then even drink so much she had collapsed. Or had she? India frowned. What if she just couldn’t remember what had happened next? What if Drake…

Horrified, India struggled to climb out of the bed, scared to wake Drake up with sudden movements, but also desperate to get away. Her eyes were slipping across his bare chest, onto the sandy locks sprayed over his closed eyes, and she shut her own tightly to calm her beating heart. India managed to leave the bed successfully, but her fingers shook with the effort of smoothing down the duvet again. If… If he had done something… anything… She was too scared to even feel angry. Quickly India slipped her shoes on, left in the corner of the room, and began to make for the bedroom door, figuring she just had to get out of here as soon as possible. She had to find her way home, pretend this never happened. The fact she had all of her previous day’s clothes on helped to calm her if only a little, but the fact that she had been lying so close to Drake, and the dreamless sleep she had had, only served to frighten her even more. ”Never am I going to drink again.” India chanted in her head, the same thoughts revolving continuously in her mind. How was she going to face Duke now? What if he found out? She needed excuses, a way out. Search for the back door. Her nervous fingers tucked messy strands of black behind her ears as she reached the handle, until a familiar voice stopped her in her tracks.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

[Drake Manning]

The black lines swirled and almost seemed to bleed onto the cotton sheets. Drake's hand held a thick paintbrush, and he was floating above the empty bed. He continued painting, a mass of black splotches against the pure white background. Even his hands and clothes were covered in the black paint. Finally, as if he was flying away from the bed, Drake began to get farther and farther away. As he moved from the chaos of black and white, the lines slowly started to make sense and take a form. It was a face; a female face. Her hair was dark, and her expression even darker. Drake looked at the piece of art with a puzzled glare. There was something missing. He couldn't identify what the missing thing was, but there was definitely something that the portrait lacked...

Subtle movement began to stir Drake from his sleep. He felt the cool morning air coming through the open window above him. Something pulled part of the blanket from his chest, and the sudden chill caused him to turn onto his side. In doing so, he began to wake up, the type of awakening in which you know that it's impossible to even try getting back to sleep. Drake hated that feeling, and so he layed there for a few seconds, finally opening his eyes and feeling the hint of what remained of a late night. Just then, Drake's memory came back to him and he remembered about India. He bolted upright, turning his head from one side to another, trying to figure out how he ended up in the bed and India nowhere to be found. Then, he looked up at his door, just in time to see her about to leave.

“And where do you think you’re going?” he demanded in a hushed tone. Surely his parents were just waiting for him to wake up so that they could give him their normal chat on responsibilities and such. Drake was used to that, but he wasn't used to the punishment that they had promised if he didn't start to make an improvement. Drake was used to them providing him with whatever he needed, and if he didn't start abiding by their rules, they threatened to throw him out.

"You do realize that my parents won't just have my head... they'll have yours too," he hissed, trying one last stitch effort to convince India from leaving just yet. After seeing that she paused, at least momentarily, Drake got up and walked over to the door, putting himself between India and her only escape (unless of course she felt like scaling the side of his house by going out the window, which ironically had happened once or twice before when Drake woke up with other girls in his room). "Trust me, you want to stay here for now," he concluded, locking eyes with India who seemed to be slightly apprehensive. Drake realized what it looked like, but if India only knew the whole story.

Convinced that he had expressed enough the reasons why India shouldn't leave his room, Drake hurried over to a pile of clothes on the floor and found a t-shirt that he threw over his head, and then changed from his pajama bottoms into something more appropriate. India's silence forced him to give at least some explanation. "I don't know how I got in the bed with you... but nothing happened." Drake rolled his eyes, knowing that he might as well be trying to convince her that he was really a pink elephant or something of the sort. "You passed out last night at the pub, and so I had to bring you here. I put you on my bed, and then I slept on the floor. I must've woken up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom and then forgot that you were here." Drake couldn't help but find himself even a bit pathetic. Grinning at the absurdity of the situation, Drake looked back at India. "This is why I prefer not to bring my girls home," he said with a laugh. "It's just so much easier when I don't."

[India Nightingale]

“I...” India started her sentence, but never managed to finish it as she stared dumbly at Drake – she wasn’t really sure how to answer, having lost all ability of speech. She knew she probably looked a right mess. A rather obvious fearful expression lingered if not on her face, deep within her eyes; her what was once wavy black hair had straightened through the night and hung in a messy mass over her shoulders; and her hands were shaking in plain view for Drake to see. If she didn’t look a mess, India certainly still felt it. Hearing Drake’s warning about his parents, India shrunk somewhat from the door timidly, still not trusting her voice to carry her chaotic thoughts clearly. She wanted to get out of his house, but she guessed, if living in this household had caused Drake to gain the reputation he had today, his parents weren’t exactly angels, and from the look on Drake’s face as he said it, India supposed she was right. She’d rather have to stay in the thickening atmosphere of this claustrophobic room with a man she feared, than have to meet Drake’s parents and be questioned by them; plus she wouldn’t be getting away from Drake or his house any sooner.

India watched silently as Drake crossed the room to place himself firmly between her and the door. She felt the sudden urge to throw herself at him and batter him away, because she felt so trapped by his taller body, though she knew she was physically weaker than him. That was another aspect of men that India disliked. They had the physical advantage, and most chose to remind their female counterparts too often; sometimes they even used it to their own benefit. India hated being made to feel small, and Drake was doing that to her now, but she was in unfamiliar territory, and coupled with his words, India felt her anger deflate somewhat. She took a hesitant step back, nervous at the bodily closeness between them. India felt the need to widen the distance, because she had already spent one night by Drake’s side; she wasn’t yearning for anymore anytime soon. India’s gaze tensely glanced up at Drake, only to lock eyes with him momentarily. The intenseness of his stare unnerved her so much she soon looked away again, only for her eyes to travel down his bare chest. She suddenly noticed how tall he was in comparison to her; he was almost six foot, she over 5’7”, which was quite tall for a girl. Quickly, India diverted her sight for the third time, glimpsing back at the unmade bed with a light blush on her cheeks. This was, if anything, a totally awkward situation. And Drake’s lack of a top only caused India to become even more uncomfortable at the implications.

As though he had read India’s mind, Drake went off to the other side of his room to retrieve a shirt, leaving India to her own devices. She guessed he trusted he had gotten his point across relatively clearly, and so believed she wouldn’t leave the room. India awkwardly stepped across the spacious bedroom and sat down stiffly on the bed, not sure what to do with herself in the meantime. Glancing at her wrist, she noted the early morning time, and wondered worriedly if Duke had noticed her lack of presence. No doubt Skye would’ve, but would she alert their guardian whom she was so afraid of? India hoped not. Duke would certainly force the entire story out of her, and he would blow if he discovered she had shared a bed for the night with someone of the opposite sex. Duke didn’t act like a parent usually, but he was extremely overprotective of India about certain things. Suddenly, the explicitness of her situation hit India full on again, but this time more powerfully as she hung off the edge of the bed she and Drake had preoccupied before. India’s insides felt sick as she thought of the possibilities of the night before. How drunk could she seriously have been not to remember what happened after she started drinking? India was sure she had started blabbing unnecessary things to Drake – exactly what, she wasn’t sure of either.

The entire situation frightened India out of her mind. She felt tainted and dirtied, and stared down at her hands lying shakily on her lap with a helpless expression. She really had to find out what had occurred yesterday, and steeled herself to ask Drake despite how scared she was to know, until he beat her to it and saved her the need to ask. India held her breath as what she hoped was the truth came out. She didn’t know if it was because she wanted it to be so, but she believed Drake’s every word. He sounded genuine to her. It didn’t help him that he was notorious for being a womaniser at Hogwarts, but this seemed to be a different Drake, and India wanted to trust his words. She tried not to gasp in relief when he stated nothing had happened, and after Drake mentioned getting up in the middle of the night, India let her head slide into her hands for support. ”Thank god.” Suddenly, India felt grateful towards her fellow Slytherin. If he had just left her at that pub, who knows what would’ve happened? Drake continued speaking, and India only registered his joking comment after a short pause. “I’m not one of your girls.” She tried to state firmly, but her voice came out as a croaky whisper. “But you’re right. It would’ve been easier to just leave me there… Thanks for…” India’s tone was cracking unstably. “I’ve been a bother to you. Sorry.” Her rare apology broke something within India, the torrent of tears she had bottled away within her rupturing and giving way to all those pent up emotions: fear, anger, relief. It washed over her like a tidal wave, and India let her tears run shamefully down her cheeks buried between her fingers. “Sorry.” She managed to choke out between sobs, her shoulders shaking. This was a world record; never had she apologised so much in one day, never mind in a few minutes; she hated breaking down like this, but... “It’s just… you scared me.” She admitted as she tried to stifle her uneven sobs.