Regular Casanova ((Ryann and India))

[Drake Manning]

Drake meandered down the halls of the dungeons. His walking stick clicked along the stone pathway and his cape billowed behind him. It was the night of the Winter Ball and he would be arriving alone and fashionably late. His costume, since they had to arrive in costume, was that of Casanova, the famous womaniser. Drake felt that it was fitting for him. He hadn't asked anybody to come with him, and he hadn't planned to either. If he went alone, that meant that he could be free to move from one girl to the next- a true Casanova.

When he entered, the crowning of the royalties was just finishing. Drake was happy to have missed it. He didn't need to watch some silly popularity contest. Going straight to the beverage table, Drake grabbed a goblet of the closest type of juice and downed it all in just one gulp. He wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his collared shirt and set the goblet back down on the table without a care. Turning, he scanned the scene for any available girls that seemed to be alone. His eyes stopped first on one who was dressed in a golden gown-like costume. She looked like a princess, perhaps from Egypt or somewhere similar. He didn't recognize her from the mask that covered her face, but she looked very beautiful in her costume. Drake wasted no time in approaching her.

Without hesitation, Drake walked up behind the girl and placed his hand on the middle of her back. Smiling, his voice was very smooth and kind as he greeted her. "Princess, may I have this dance?" How could any girl who didn't know him resist the charm of Drake Manning? It would take a lot when he was on his best terms. If only they could see through to the real Drake; the lost and alone and bitter Drake that hid behind the cool, calm, and cunning Drake.

[Ryann Taylor G6]

Ryann pulled the gold dress over her head and looked at herself in the mirror. She straightened out the wrinkles and then finished off her costume by placing the headpiece on top of her head and admiring the finished result. She wasn't quite sure that she made the best Cleopatra, but she figured that the costume was close enough to get the effect she was hoping for. She wished that Noah would have asked her to the ball, but she couldn't blame him for not asking. And, expecting Drake to ask her was just plain crazy. Therefore, she was going alone.

Seeing that all of her roommates had already made their way to join the festivities, Ryann ventured off to the ball with nobody at her side. Many of the students had arrived when she got there, but she wasn't too late to watch as the two courts were announced and the princess, prince, queen, and king were given their crowns as the rest of the student body cheered them on happily. Ryann was glad to see that Kiana, another Gryffindor, had been named the queen. Ryann smiled and clapped loudly, watching as the royalties smiled and accepted their honorable titles. It was nice seeing everybody so happy and cheerful, despite Ryann not being so happy herself.

As she was about to turn and go find a drink and a deserted corner where she could just watch and stay to herself, she felt a hand on her back and heard a familiar voice. Turning with a subtle smile, she was somewhat shocked yet happy to see Drake standing behind her. Maybe she had been wrong about him and he was giving her a second chance. Perhaps she was too quick to accept the truth of his reputation. Drake was dressed in rather formal attire, seeming much like a gentleman. She wasn't sure what he was going for with his costume, but he sure could act the part. "Of course you can," Ryann replied sweetly. She couldn't believe that Drake Manning was asking her to dance, especially after their last encounter where it seemed rather clear that he had only been using her. Ryann wasn't going to question him though. She knew people made mistakes and that everyone deserved another chance. If Drake wanted that second chance, she wouldn't deny him of it. She took his hand and followed as they headed off to the dance floor, she in her flowing golden gown and he in his handsome formal wear.

[India Nightingale]

“Why am I doing this?”

Well, there was no turning back now. India carefully avoided a bunch of half-drunk Slytherin boys in her year, her eyes lingering in disgust on them as they passed. Other merry students flocked around India, causing her to feel somewhat claustrophobic. Already India had attracted much attention from many boys tonight, but so far she had ignored every single one of them. She was afraid if she spoke, her identity would be revealed. Thankfully, India’s black mask covered her face well, so only her glimmering eyes and pursed red lips could be seen. No one, not a single person in this room, unless they had laser-vision, would’ve guessed the black beauty roaming the Winter Ball was India Nightingale.

India sighed inwardly as her high-heeled black boots caught against her dress again. Shifting her foot accordingly, she moved to the drinks table, careful to carry herself properly so her dress wouldn’t trip her up and cause an embarrassing disaster. When India had finally decided to attend the Winter Ball, her choice of attire had not been hard. She was going to wear all black, and what better than to dress up as Morgana the witch. No one else here was quite as… black as India, she had noted somewhat proudly. Her sleek long black dress reached her ankles, exposing only a slither of her knee-high boots. They lifted several inches onto India’s already rather tall figure. Her slim – perhaps much too slim – body was hugged by a tight black dress, velvety smooth and soft; it was laced at the back, so India’s pale skin could be seen, though her long ebony locks covered some of it. The dress was strapless, with a separate piece of material for her arms; black also, it curved round her back, its sleeves so long they ran past India’s slender, black-painted fingernails. A large black witch’s hat topped her head. Aside from the red lipstick on her lips, India had a large silver pendant around her neck which completed her costume.

Still, although India was quite proud of how she looked tonight, she was still wondering why she was here in the first place. When these events occurred, she would usually be cooped up in her room, working. She’d do anything to avoid the Hogwarts parties and balls, which were an annual thing. Being a student here for sixth years almost, India had not participated in a single one so far. So what was so special about this year’s Winter Ball? What had changed in India that had persuaded her inner conscience she wanted to go? India still didn’t know – or rather, refused to acknowledge the real reason, so much she continued to wonder what the reason actually was. Touching her sleek black hair, straightened specially for tonight, self-consciously, India looked around the Great Hall apprehensively. She reached for a beverage, wanting to keep herself occupied. Many familiar but insignificant faces passed by, mostly in groups or pairs. India vaguely noticed the Princess of the Ball – she had to be the Princess, she was too young and small to be the Queen – nearby with a girl in India’s year – an Aurora Chan, a very annoying Hufflepuff whom India avoided at all costs. The Princess was also a Hufflepuff, India was sure of it, and they were likely to be related in some way. India didn’t nor, nor didn’t care to want to find out. She just knew the child to be the Princess because of the silver crown on her head.

India averted her gaze to look at the dancing couples some way away. Their happy faces irked India, and her grip around the glass tightened a little. Suddenly, a flash of gold caught her eyes, and she turned to gaze upon what was so bright. She saw a small female figure dancing with a much taller boy; she looked to be dressed as Cleopatra. The man beside him… from the back of his head, India thought he looked awfully familiar, but couldn’t decipher who it was. He seemed to be dressed as… ”Casanova.” India thought with narrowed eyes. Some player. Trust men to be like that. India was about to turn away from the very uninteresting couple, when the pair turned around and an all too familiar face came into view. ”Drake!” India almost gasped out loud, but shut her mouth again. Her eyes, wide with surprise, narrowed now in dislike at the flirtatious young man. ”What a suitable costume for him. I should’ve guessed.” India watched Drake carefully, his manner and his movement, and felt great anger aimed not only at Drake himself, but at the girl he was dancing with. Who was she, anyway? His date for tonight?

India spent another five minutes scrutinising the girl, until a flash of brunette hair caused India’s mind to reel with recognition. ”You’ve got to be kidding.” India’s thoughts were dark; dark and angry. ”Ryann Taylor.”

[Drake Manning]

Without even hesitating, the girl agreed to join Drake for a dance. She seemed almost excited to join him, which made him a bit curious of whether she knew him as more than just an acquaintance. Something about her seemed vaguely familiar, but overall Drake didn't really recognize her. He didn't think much more about it though as he lead her to the dance floor and took her by the waist. Drake pulled her body closer to his and was tempted to whisper something into her ear. He didn't though, because at that moment another girl caught his eye. Drake saw a woman dressed in all black. It was just like him too; with his arms around one girl, he was drawn to the beauty of another.

Drake's previous desire to whisper into the ear of his mystery princess had slipped away, and as he danced, he couldn't help but keep his eye on the other girl. He was looking over the shoulder of the girl he was dancing with though, and he figured that perhaps later he might get a chance to approach the other girl. She too seemed oddly familiar, but with the way Drake viewed women, it was hard for him to look past the outer appearance. He was always so caught up on one physical feature or another, and so with everyone wearing costumes, he had a hard time picking out anybody that had their faces covered or hidden in one way or another. Not to mention, when added to the fact that Drake had sneaked a few drinks before the ball, his sense of identification was a bit hindered to say the least.

Having a fairly enjoyable time with the golden girl in his arms, Drake finished dancing to the song that was playing and then when it ended, he took a step back. "Would you like a drink?" he asked, trying his best to charm the girl as much as possible. Perhaps after the ball she might join him for a drink that was more of Drake's type if he could keep her interested in him. As well, the drink table was near the other girl that he had spotted, and so he figured he might get a closer look at her in case this golden girl decided to ditch him any time soon.

[India Nightingale]

India could hardly believe her eyes. Though, why was she so surprised in the first place? Ryann was, what India had aptly called, Drake’s ‘flavour of the week’. Although this infatuation seemed to have lasted longer than a mere week. India looked back on the first incident with Ryann and Drake mixed together. It had occurred in the Courtyard, when the sun was setting across the horizon; she could even remember the blood red running across the sky, clashing harshly against the dull blues. Ryann had appeared out of nowhere, and had seemed to know Drake. This had surprised India, and most likely India’s presence around Drake had surprised Ryann in return. A lot of mysteries began to unravel at that point. India still hadn’t deciphered Ryann’s position yet… but she could see tonight that she was still in Drake’s good books of sorts. Though, from what India had analysed of Ryann’s personality, most likely the chaser of the relationship was her, rather than Drake. India smirked to herself. So she didn’t have a ‘relationship’ with him… no, it was more of a competition, a game. But nevertheless, in this game, India knew she held the power. She knew that it was Drake always chasing her, and not the other way around. True, India thought about him – she had thought about him a lot after the summer and Courtyard incidents. But like everything else, she had gradually numbed her emotions so they slipped to the back of her mind, forgotten.

Of course, then there was the real reason to why India was even standing here in the middle of the Winter Ball in the first place. Was it Drake? India had known Drake would come. The chances of him coming were… too high. And yes, here he was. Was India pleased? Satisfied? She couldn’t be even if she admitted she had come here to see him though – since he was with who else but Ryann? A pain blossomed in her chest further still, so she tried to ebb the flow of hurt that flowed through veins. This was weak. She was showing weakness. It wasn’t a visible vulnerability, but it still made India frustrated with herself. She had to stop this silly game! It was screwing her up. Watching Ryann’s gold costume twirl around the dance floor with a grinning Drake made India cold and mad and regretful all at the same time. How could that idiot make her feel this way? The glass in her hand fully gripped by a vice-like hold, India was about to shove it into her mouth, drain it, cast it aside and approach the nearest available male student in the vicinity. She had to forget Drake, and since India had no plans to leave just yet (because there would merely prove that she had been here to see him all along), the best way was to grab a man. Dance with him or something. Even though India hated the vile creatures, she didn’t care. She just didn’t care.

However, before India could throw away the empty glass and move towards a solitary boy at the end of the table (someone in the year above, India recognised, and he looked forlorn but good looking enough), her eyes, always on Casanova and Cleopatra, noticed them leaving the dance floor; they were coming her way. Great. The song, India could hear now, was finishing, and many pairs were leaving and coming onto the dance floor. Now was the opportune moment to grab that lone student and force him to dance with her. India didn’t care for the fact he was a Hufflepuff and someone she would never be caught seen with. Anything to stop her heart from ramming against her chest almost painfully as Drake neared with Ryann in tow. She was shimmering in gold so much India’s eyes watered with the glints of light. However, despite her inward screaming to force herself to move to that Hufflepuff in seventh year, India could do nothing but watch in fascination as her worst nightmare approached. She was rooted to the spot, speechless and motionless.

Finally, Drake and Ryann approached the drinks table, literally a metre away from a still India. She heard Drake ask if Ryann wanted a drink, and felt her fury curl in her stomach. Hearing his voice dripping with such charm and charisma, India knew a little why girls like Ryann Taylor fell for such a man. Drake was irresistible in his own way; even though women knew they could never full possess him, because it would always be the opposite, they still fawned after him, relished in his attention. Drake made a girl feel special, and the arrogant idiot knew it. Frustrated, India shifted on her feet and put her empty glass by the side of the table, letting her arms fall and encircle her own waist, crossing them over her abdomen. She wanted to stay as inconspicuous as possible so Drake wouldn’t be drawn to her and attract attention. On the other hand, India wanted nothing more than to stalk right up to them and scream at Drake – perhaps even slap him. Not that Drake had ever wounded her or hurt her emotions… but she still felt… betrayed. Drake wasn’t cheating on her, he wasn’t hers, her boyfriend, but seeing him with Ryann still hurt like hell. India didn’t like herself for feeling this way, as she knew too that Ryann was nothing to Drake. She knew that. India thought she could deal with this, that was, until the Drake brushed up against her to get a drink. That was when India snapped. Turning sharply, she locked eyes with the older boy and stared him down coldly, “Drake. What a surprise to see you here with Taylor. Looks like the flavour of the week hasn’t lost all her taste yet. She must have much more than her surface gives credit for.” India’s voice dripped with sarcasm and icy bitterness that she failed to conceal. Oh, to hell with control, she thought inwardly. She wanted to give Drake a good earful, right here, right now.

[Drake Manning]

"I'd love a drink," the girl replied as Drake lead her to the table. He was paying attention to both girls at this point, but he avoided making eye contact with the girl in black because he didn't want to unless he had to. The girl he had been dancing with was enough for now, and the fact that she was willingly falling after every one of Drake's moves made her just the right type. There weren't many girls of her kind left that hadn't already fallen to the usual routine that Drake found himself using.

They had reached the table, and he was close enough now to sneak a look at the girl in black. Her face was turned and covered, and so he wasn't able to figure out if he knew her. Taking two drinks from the table, he turned to hand one back to the golden girl only to accidentally bump into the other girl. Drake realized it, and immediately figured it might be for the best. He hoped she might turn so that he could get a better view.

As Drake had continued to play his games, what happened next was quite unexpected; something he wouldn't have foreseen but probably should have if he hadn't been so blinded by his numbing desires. The girl in black spoke his name and then referenced the other girl as 'Taylor'. Ryann Taylor? he thought. The pieces all clicked into place and Drake realized that the golden girl was Ryann! No wonder she had seemed so familiar. Before Drake could even try to comprehend why Ryann had agreed to dance with him and whether or not she had realized he had no clue who she was, he knew instantly that the other girl was India! For a second, even the charming Drake Manning was without words.

For what was probably a good five seconds or so, Drake allowed his mind to wrap itself around the ironically bizarre situation that he had just found himself in. At first, all he could do was let out a laugh of unbelief. "India?" he questioned, squinting his eyes to get a good look at hers through the mask. There was no doubt that it was her. If it wasn't that he couldn't tell from her eyes by this time, the way she spoke and her voice were obvious signs. "... and Ryann," he said, speaking more glumly and with less interest than when he had spoken India's name. He was quite surprised to discover that it had been India that he had been watching from across the dance floor, and despite being surprised to find that it was Ryann who he had been dancing with, he was a bit less thrilled by that fact. "If I'd have know, well then I wouldn't have..." he trailed off, turning to India and practically ignoring Ryann despite her standing directly behind him.

"What do you care which flavour I'm currently sampling?" he asked with an equal amount of sarcasm as India had used when speaking to him. Drake couldn't help but dwell on the fact that it seemed to disappoint India to find him with Ryann. This wasn't the first time either. He was inwardly thrilled that India had seemed to be bothered by this, but he knew that if he showed it, he was only giving her the upper hand. For now, he had the advantage since it had been India who approached him. Well, literally, he had approached her, and he had been watching her from across the hall. However, she was the one who had technically made the first obvious move by calling him out. "Maybe some flavours last a bit longer than others," he said with an arrogant tone, turning to see that Ryann was no longer standing behind him. He wasn't surprised that she had fled the scene, realizing that Drake hadn't known he was dancing with her the entire time. Perhaps this would keep her away from him though. She had been getting quite annoying as she seemed to think that Drake was actually pursuing something more than just a shallow encounter. "Then again... maybe not."

((G-moding of Ryann allowed, of course. )

[India Nightingale]

With anger still clutching at her mind blindly, India watched Drake as confusion flittered across his face for a moment. He seemed bewildered and surprised at India’s outburst, and she knew she had given herself away. Drake obviously could not comprehend that the woman standing before him was India at all. She was somewhat regretful at exposing herself, but perhaps her plan in the very beginning was to do this anyway – turn up at the Ball and snub in Drake Manning’s face how he could never, ever have her. India wasn’t his to take or keep; she could not be possessed. Keeping her stiff, haughty stature in place, India waited for a reaction from Drake impatiently; although he only delayed for a few seconds, to her it seemed forever. A little doubt, however, began to curl around her stomach; from the striking expression in his eyes that India was staring into right now, he seemed utterly baffled to what she had just uttered. Perhaps he hadn’t known the girl he had been dancing with was Ryann? India snorted inwardly. No way. No freaking way. Drake Manning was Drake Manning. A leopard didn’t change its spots; they merely pretended to. No way could this have been a pure coincidence. India didn’t believe in coincidences.

Suddenly Drake laughed. India blinked in hidden surprise, before he turned to her and spoke her name as though a question. As expected, he hadn’t known that this was her in disguise. India continued to stare coldly at him for a moment, as though regarding him at a distance, before rolling her eyes in an excessive manner. “Duh.” She muttered, glaring at him pointedly. Was he really this dense? Was her presence really that much of a shock? However, before India could continue making sarcastic comments, Drake turned to Ryann with an expression of amazement and spoke her name also as though it too were a harsh blow to his knowledge. India could have laughed at the expression on his face at that point, but her conscience did a little hopeful flip in the background instead. Did Drake honestly not know that this golden ‘princess’ was Ryann Taylor? Impossible! The coincidence was extraordinary, one that India could not accept at all. But Drake wasn’t finished yet for India to persist in having a go at him. He continued to speak in a dazed tone of voice, a little like the first time she met Drake in the muggle park in the middle of their summer holidays. India didn’t know why back then he had been acting so strangely, but she had a feeling right now, Drake was rather drunk.

It wasn’t a surprise, really, India told herself. Drake liked his booze. He was, after all, the culprit who had ‘kidnapped’ her, taken her to a muggle bar, and then proceeded to get her so drunk she hadn’t remembered the night’s events at all. Instead, she had woken up by his side, still reeling from the liquor that had no doubt gone to her head. India thought alcohol was a very good reason for why Drake was acting so dense right now. She knew this Slytherin, and she knew he was far from stupid. In fact, she grudgingly admitted he was intelligent and smart – not clever, and not witty either, but he had a natural gift of intellect. One could simply not deny it. Drake’s returning voice caught India a little off guard though – perhaps it caught them all off guard, as he himself sounded very off-putting; Ryann merely stared at Drake before running off to what seemed to be in tears, and India could only stare on his form in her own disbelief. Did he just...? Was he implying that he hadn’t planned to dance with Ryann? Be with her tonight? India could only wonder as suddenly Drake seemed to regain his usual arrogant, controlled composure, and turned to her to ignore the fact Ryann was disappearing through the crowds fast.

“If you had known what? And what would you not have done?” India pierced the air with an icy tone, a challenge still alight within her eyes. She had to steel herself against anything Drake was about to say to her now, because she knew his game; he would try to charm her with flirtatious and yet dry comments, attempt to get the upper hand of the situation. Well, India would simply not let him; she would stand her ground. Right now, she was the one in control, and not Drake. “I don’t care.” India waved off dismissively with a straight glare of defiance. “What makes you think I care? After all, that... wench and you have nothing to do with me. I was simply making a passing comment. After all, she is such a... foolish airhead.” India let a small, cruel smile taint her thinned lips. She proceeded to give an outward derisive snort to answer Drake’s next comment, and let himself notice that Ryann had long left the scene. A smirk lined her lips as he turned back to her. “Maybe not indeed.” She stated triumphantly, repressing a grin that wanted to surface. A small pang in her heart began to feel sympathy for the departed Gryffindor girl; to be cast off like that so cruelly by a man hurt, and India understand how that felt. At the same time, she couldn’t find it all in herself to care too much; she just told herself that Ryann deserved it – she had brought this on herself! India had warned her and she hadn’t taken her advice. Well, she should’ve.

India didn’t just feel triumphant about this matter though; she also felt a little proud that she had managed to gain Drake’s attention over that airhead. “Well, I think I should take my leave now, Drake.” India began smoothly again, her fingers teetering on the edge of the table before finding a full glass of lemonade. She poured it back in one swig and drained the lot, before putting it down beside her previous glass. “It’s been a blast. Hope you have a... pleasant evening.” Smirking exultantly to herself, India proceeded to try to walk away from Drake and out of the Ball room. She had done what she knew she had sought to accomplish tonight; by ruining Drake Manning’s evening. Now he’d be left all alone, and India found that fact very amusing. However, before she had taken barely two steps, a strong and familiar hand grasped her wrist, pulling her back forcefully and causing her to almost fall because of her dress and shoes.

[Drake Manning]

"If I'd have known it was you who I had been starring at from across the room, I wouldn't have wasted my time coming over." Drake was lying through his teeth, but he had a feeling that India knew that. If it wasn't obvious by now, Drake wanted nothing to do with Ryann, really. She had been a game for Drake; a game that he found too easy and too boring. Now, it was simply one of those games that got annoying, which was why he wasn't the least bit remorseful for allowing Ryann to run out in tears. India could plainly see that, and if she couldn't... well... she could. Drake knew she could. But perhaps what she couldn't see was that Drake was slowly realizing that India was a game as well. She was a different kind of game though. She was a game that Drake was losing, and he didn't like losing. This was one game he wanted to win more than anything.

As India continued to degrade Ryann, Drake simply took it all in. He refused to comment on the fact either way, not wanting to give anything that India could use against him. He knew that he was slightly under the influence of the alcohol, but it hadn't been nearly enough to take away Drake's edge. Plus, as the minutes passed, the effects were slowly wearing off. He did nothing to let India know this though. If she thought he was slightly disadvantaged, perhaps he might be able to win after all. He couldn't help but see it as even more than a game though. It was almost like a trap. Drake had never experienced anything like it before. He felt almost like he was on the other end of his own vices. How had India managed to make him the one who was being played? Still, that feeling in the depths of his stomach persisted, and Drake couldn't help but feel drawn to India as much as he knew that she made it clear that she really didn't seem to want anything to do with him. She treated him with such a cold demeanour, and she was anything but pleasant all the times that they had interacted.



Drake was silent still, a glassy stare fixed on India as she prepared to leave. What was it about her?! Drake felt like a snake who couldn't help but follow her tune of allurement. With a sarcastic sort of goodbye, she had turned to leave the Great Hall. Drake turned his gaze to follow her out before finally snapping out of his momentary trance. "India!" he shouted after her, a futile attempt to get her attention over the sound of the music and the chatting students. He rushed after her and quickly told hold of her wrist. He spun her around, knowing that she wouldn't be happy with his forcefulness, but he didn't care.

Once he had her in his hands, Drake wasn't so sure why he had went after her. Drake never did the chasing. It wasn't who he was. But he had done it this time. He had been the one to go after the girl instead of it being the other way around. How embarrassing and completely detrimental to his reputation! None of that seemed to matter to Drake though. He felt the slightest sense of elation flow over him; likely part due to the alcohol and the rest was a mystery to Drake. At that moment, words didn't seem to come to Drake despite him always having the right things to say. All of his charm had eluded him, and he was only able to look into India's eyes that seemed so resisting and full of emotions that Drake couldn't even begin to understand. He had no clue what India was thinking or feeling. He had no clue how he could make India see him like he had managed to make every other girl see him. He knew she saw past his facade, but he didn't know how to stop her.

Still buzzed, Drake had lost all inhibition by this point. India was standing right there in front of him, and he did what he naturally felt led to do. Forcing her into his arms (because he was almost certain that she wouldn't want him to do what he was about to do), Drake kissed India without a care in the world of what she would do in return. It was such an odd feeling for Drake though. He had never kissed a girl like he had kissed India, and he had never had the same kind of feelings when doing so either. They were feelings that were alien to Drake, and though he wouldn't admit it, they scared him to death. He felt like he was losing control of himself, more so than what he felt when he became a slave to his alcoholic addiction. This was a different kind of loss of control, one that Drake wasn't sure he could even stop if he tried. After kissing her, Drake could still only stare into her eyes, words continuing to escape his capability of speaking in that moment.

[India Nightingale]

“Sure.” India deadpanned sarcastically as Drake tried to make excuses for himself. India wasn’t like Ryann; Drake’s many charming faces didn’t – couldn’t – draw her in one bit. That would mean she would lose this game. India didn’t play games, but when she did, she played fast and she played hard. No mercy, even though the truth was she wanted to succumb to Drake so much. No, she couldn’t be weak towards him, could not fall down in the face of a man! Steeling her resolve in her mind over and over again, almost like chanting a continuous mantra in her head, India began to stalk away, knowing that if she stayed any longer her steps may falter, her voice may die, and she would be left defenceless. Duke had once told India that ‘defence was paper thin’. Well, Duke, India thought with utmost determination; her defence was made of thousands, if not millions of layers of paper. No one, especially not Drake, would be let through. He was a man, he was arrogant and a womaniser. He was everything India despised.

A few steps. That was how far India got. Truth be told, although she was happily triumphant from her ‘victory’ over Drake, she was also extremely comfortable to how she reacted against him too. He didn’t know it, but he brought out an insecurity in her she did not like. India liked to feel secure in her privacy, shrouded in darkness, and although Drake was certainly not her ‘sun’, he was definitely mixing his gloom with hers, causing them to intermingle and turn her pitch black to what India could only describe as a murky grey colour. She wanted erase his presence, but once the colours had merged, it was impossible. Drake wasn’t like a blemish though; he fit in too well for India to drive away, and that was what caused her heart to ram so hard against her chest whenever she spoke to him. She could uphold her usual confidence and coldness, but it was a persona she struggled to do with difficulty.

So when Drake’s hand closed around hers so familiarly, a sense of déjà vu shooting up her sensitive skin to remind her of the summer’s incident, India did hesitate for a moment. She did, because that part of her liked it. But, that part of her, which India refused to admit was her heart, was going to be squashed down violently because it was wrong. So India did just that and was preparing to continue right on ahead, but before she knew it she was pulled backwards strongly despite her protesting body, and fell into Drake’s arms, spun around so they were face to face. India’s breathing hitched a notch at the closeness of their bodies, and for a moment she was struck speechless by the intense gaze Drake was directing at her. Her face was upturned to his, since he was a good deal taller than her, but since India was one of the taller girls in her year, the difference actually worked, plus the shoes on her feet. In fact, anyone passing by would’ve thought they were a regular, even good-looking couple. So shocked was India she could simply not move a muscle, lay a finger to hit Drake for throwing her into such a close, vulnerable situation.

“Drake…” India started, her voice a murmur, a tremor in it revealing how off guard she was in this precarious position. Her hands pressed only slightly in protest against his chest, and she tried to force her mind into objection mode. However, Drake didn’t give her time to adjust as he forced her into his arms even more desperately and bent down to capture her lips in a fervent kiss. India barely emitted a squeak of alarm as their noses brushed against each other, Drake’s mouth against hers sending shivers down her spine. It wasn’t an invading kiss, but one that contained passion and need, and India felt her soul rise with the connection between them. Her first instinct was to kick him hard and run away, but she soon melted into the kiss, though she made no move to return the gesture. India didn’t know how, and that protesting still lay within. However, for the most part India felt like… she was floating. It was a pleasant sensation, not a terrifying or disgusting one, as she had always expected of kisses. All India could think of, all she could hear and feel, was Drake being so close to her, his lips on hers; the noisy students filtered away to only the beating of his heart against hers, and the touch of his fingers on her waist.

Heaven. That was the only way India could describe the sensation crawling up her spine, shooting through her belly, swimming in her mind foggily because it was so overwhelming. Finally, after what seemed like forever, Drake pulled away, that contact and distance between them widening again, and India found space to breathe. She began to take heavy breaths, not realising she had held it through the entire kiss. As she sought for air to fill her bursting lungs, Drake continues to stare down at her ardently, as if to say… say what? There was a lingering of confusion and bewilderment in his own eyes as India stared into them, somewhat caught by the way he was looking at her. However, as her senses began to join her body again, banishing the pleasant sensations from the kiss from her mind, India’s fogginess of mind cleared. Blinking in the bright lights, her eyes wide in fear, she hitched up her dress, turned around, and left for the second time that day. ”He just kissed me. Drake just kissed me!” India screamed inside her head, blindly pushing past people, desperate to get away from the hoards and masses of students that had likely just witnessed that. This was wrong, all wrong; it had all gone wrong!

Her first kiss – stolen by Drake Manning. The truth pained India so much she almost stumbled across a couple who were hugging tightly. Unfocused, she rushed past them after regaining her composure, not bothering to turn to look if Drake was following her again. No, she had to leave this place, where the noise was so loud she could barely think and breathe and process. Distraught, India finally made it out of the Great Hall, the doors slamming shut behind her. What she hadn’t noticed was that Drake had come all the way after her too, and was standing behind her. India flung herself round at the sound of a footstep echoing, her eyes still dilated with fear – and now anger and denial. “What did you think you were doing, Drake?” India started to hiss without thought, her shock and overwhelming terror causing her to lose control slowly but surely. “You kissed me. You KISSED me! What were you thinking?” India watched, frightened, to see if Drake would come near her; a good few metres separated them. “Stay away from me, you hear? Don’t touch me!” Her voice was slowly losing its edge, replaced by a crazed desperation as shaking arms encircled her body.

[Drake Manning]

Realization of what was happening began to sink in, along with the words that Drake was trying to find. He wasn't sure if they were the right words, but they were the words that came to him in this moment of impulse. "This is what I've wanted for so long, and now we can have it." Apparently the words weren't quite the right ones. Or, at least judging by India's response, Drake thought he may have said something that she didn't want to hear. Gone. This seemed to be a recurring pattern in tonight's events. Still though, Drake wasn't about to leave everything at that. For the second time, he hurried past everyone who was quite obviously starring at both he and India by this time. She had managed to get out into the entrance hall.

"What was I doing!? What was I doing!?," he repeated with a tone of disbelief. He may not have been completely sober, but Drake knew that when he had kissed her, India didn't resist. She didn't fight back with the normal sense that she had fought back with for the entire time Drake had known her. If she really was mad at him for this, she couldn't just put the blame on him. She was a willing participant, perhaps not as willing as Drake at this point, but she had been willing. "And why are you so damned scared of a kiss? Why are you so damned shut off?" Drake was practically screaming, not in an angry tone but in one that demanded that India listen to what he was saying. He wanted her to answer his questions. He wanted to know why India had been different than every other girl he had known. Drake couldn't figure her out, so he was desperate for answers.

India's fear was quite palpable, and Drake's fear, a fear that reached into his heart was perhaps muddled with everything else that he was conveying. He wondered if India could tell what he was thinking, could tell what he was feeling. Did she know that he was scared to death to admit what he thought was happening? Did she know that he was utterly confused as to what exactly was happening? Drake took a step toward her despite her demands that he stay away. He didn't touch her though as he felt a natural sense that made him honour her command that he not. It was almost like he was respecting her, something he hadn't done to anybody in years.

Drake stood, calming down a bit as he watched India's fear. He watched her standing opposite him with a look in her eyes that he didn't know. He didn't understand, but he wanted to understand. "India..." his voice was softer now. He was no longer yelling, but speaking in almost a whisper. The entrance hall was eerily silent, save for the muffled noise coming from the great hall. It was cold too. Drake felt a cold that was surrounding him, and he wasn't sure if it was even a real kind of cold or a cold that was from his own fear. "India, I need you." The words sounded so foreign. Drake needed her? What was he saying!? "I want you." That phrase was a bit more normal for Drake, though when he heard it come from his mouth, he recognized that it was so much different than all of the times he had said it before. "I need to know what you want. I have to know what you're feeling." For the first time in his life that he could remember, Drake was desperate for someone to want him in return. He felt vulnerable standing there in front of India. He felt naked; all of his layers, all of his masks felt so far away. His fear was the only thing surrounding him as he had opened himself vulnerably to the one person who he knew could now hurt him the most. He had made a dangerous move, but there was no turning back now.

[India Nightingale]

India’s arms were shaking. They gripped the sides of her hips tightly, covered only by the thin material of the black dress. She was trying to keep herself upright with these hands – hold her figure high above the rest of the world. She could not let herself fall down, because her own strength was all she had. If she fell, there would be no one to catch her. Yet still, in the face of his piercing gaze, standing before Drake seemed impossible. How did he cause her resolve to crumble to treacherously? What power had he over her? Drake was meant to mean nothing, and yet he had become something to India. But what was it? “I’m not scared,” India finally grappled with her voice and forced a low hiss to escape. “I’m not scared of you and your kisses. They don’t mean anything to me, that’s why. You think you can win a woman over with your slimy, lecherous ways; well, you’ve got another thing coming, Drake Manning!” Her words were pushed through gritted teeth, resisting the urge to run her tongue across her lips, to ascertain to whether or not Drake had left any trace of his sinful act.

“I’m not just another woman you can win.” India continued, her voice steadily growing louder, gradually losing its shakiness and gaining strength. Still, her fingernails pressed against her skin through the smooth velvet. “This is not a game you can win by cheating, by taking a shortcut to the finish line. And for that matter, there is no finish line, because I am not an object you can take. I am me, and my space should be respected. You can’t just... kiss me like that!” India protested, anger knotting into her brow again. Her frustration refused to ebb, tides of recollection pushing further and further against her heart. “And do you want to know why I’m so ‘damned shut off’, Drake? Because there are too many men like you out there in the world, out to get girls’ hearts; you want to pick us up, love us, make us feel safe, and then, BANG!” India was half laughing sarcastically now, so overcome with memories and past emotions she had been concealing too long. It had been more than few years since India had seriously thought about James, and now it was all coming back.

“You drop us, as if we’re nothing. As if we are tools, or toys. As if we are your bloody possessions! We are human beings too! We have feelings! I! I have feelings! I should be respected just the same as everyone else, but the world doesn’t work like that. Humans don’t work like that! We’re all just scum waiting for salvation, when in fact, Hell is going to punish us once we die. Because we’re all sinners, and you know it. You know it because you’re the worst of the lot.” India took a step back, viciously blinking to stop the threatening overflow of hot, angry tears in her eyes. “So that’s why I’m so ‘damned shut off’, Drake Manning. Happy now? You happy you got the truth from me now? You think you cracked me now?” India sneered, almost choking in a sob that was rising in her throat. “You wanted to play this game; you started this game. You knew what I am. I am shut off and I like it, so why can’t you just leave me alone? Why can’t anyone leave me alone to suffer through this... this life?!”

India turned her back to Drake, pacing a little on the spot and blinking so much she could barely see through the dim lighting. Damnit, why were the tears coming now? Why were they trying to escape her eyes so much? Hearing a footstep behind her, India flung herself around, stepping back herself, and screamed, much louder this time, “JUST STAY AWAY FROM ME!” Her sob came out for real this time. Her arms shook and her eyes brimmed despite her efforts to conceal her tears. “I will not be broken.” She then whispered in contrast, holding back another sob with more control. “Not by you, not by anybody. So stay away from me. I don’t want to play this game anymore.” India was hoping to leave it at that; she wanted to turn and run away, lock herself in her dormitory and not face the world for at least twenty-four hours. But Drake’s whisper of her name kept her there, sent a chill up her spine. No one had ever said her name so tenderly. Not even Duke.

India’s eyes snapped up to meet Drake’s as when he said he needed her. He needed her? He needed her? She would’ve normally retorted, said something sarcastic and hurtful back. But there was genuineness in his voice which halted India, which caused her to be speechless. She watched him carefully as her sobs stayed repressed in her chest, her body heaving from her laboured breathing. Then he said he wanted her. India couldn’t help a frown flicker across her face. He wanted her? He... India for one second felt that familiar flash of anger shoot across her heart, an arrow of betrayal. But when Drake said he wanted to know what she wanted, he wanted to know what she was feeling with so much desperation and desire in his voice, so much truth and honesty, India faltered again. She believed him. She believed that Drake meant what he said. But that was going against all her mottos, all her philosophies. Men were scum. They were to be hated. They used and manipulated you. And yet... “I don’t know what I want.” India suddenly broke the silence with an equally broken voice. Her eyes avoided Drake’s, cast to one side purposefully. “I’ve never wanted anything but to be alone, but...” She wavered uncertainly, then ploughed on with more determination. Her heart thudded in her chest.

“But why would you want me?” She said, strongly this time, demanding to know the answer. She needed answers to her questions too. She wasn’t going to tell him how she really felt until she understood his true intentions, however genuine he was and however much she wanted to believe him. India still had her defences. “Why would you need me? I’m... no one.” She glanced up at Drake for a split second, a helpless, needing look in her eyes. “No one in the world wants me. No one in the world needs me. I’m worthless to you, so how can you say that? I’m just a game; a fun game to be played.”

[Drake Manning]

She was frantic. That was the only way to describe the way India was acting. Shouts of venomous words and accusations came from her way as Drake could only stand and take it all in. This was not what he had been expecting, at least not initially. It was very much the epitome of the way India had been in the entire time Drake had known her though. Just when he had taken down his walls, opened himself up to her, she shut hers even tighter. Every thing she threw at him was another feeble attempt to hide behind everything, to get away from it all. Drake knew though that walls and barriers could only do so much. They could keep out the rest of the world, but they would never soothe that pain that was so much a part of you. The walls and such could only keep that pain locked in even tighter until it almost ate you alive. Drake knew the feeling well. But now... now he was starting to see what it was like to open the doors, to take off the masks, and have someone come in and make the pain even worse.

She didn't know what she wanted. She didn't know what she wanted, yet she knew she wanted to be alone. Drake blinked as he saw the confusion in her eyes. Maybe she really didn't know what she wanted, but Drake didn't want to think about what it might be like if he needed her and she needed anything but to be with him. It wouldn't work like that; couldn't. "I don't know why I want you, India. I can't explain it any better than I can explain why you are the one person that has pierced my heart with a feeling that I've never felt before. I can't give you a reason why the pain I feel can disappear when I am merely in your presence, and then I can't explain why right now I feel more pain than any I have ever felt when I think that you can't even give me an answer. I want and answer India. I need an answer. What do you feel?" Drake would have rather been anywhere but there. He hated feeling desperate and vulnerable. He hated it almost more than he hated the pain that he felt inside of him.

India poured out more reasons why nobody could want her and she still hadn't given him a sufficient answer. He wasn't sure what to do. He didn't know if he could bear to think that she might not love him back, couldn't love him back. And if she did love him back, he didn't really know what to do with that either. Drake had never loved someone the way he loved India. It was such a scary feeling and he was so unsure of what he should do, what he should think. "But I want you, India. I need you. I'm not everyone else. Can't you see that there are always exceptions to every rule, to every truth that you have come to know? You are the one person that has been able to pierce my defences and capture my soul. All I need to know is what you are feeling. I need to know if there is a chance that I could be that person for you. I have to know if it's worth fighting for. Worth risking everything I've know to pursue what I am feeling. I can't keep my defences down as I wait for you to figure everything out. I just need to know right now if you can be the person who can end my pain forever. The one person that can make me even remotely happy in this life of darkness that I've found myself in."

[India Nightingale]

India listened to Drake’s words in disbelief and incredulity. No… this was boring through her defences, striking at her very core, and she had to STOP it! India could not let this continue! She couldn’t let him in, even though her mind knew too well that Drake was already swimming within her, invading her every nook and cranny, seeking out information she wasn’t ready to share with anyone yet. She nearly let out a frustrated scream of fear, until she managed to resist it and forcefully choke out, “No… No, I can’t answer you. This isn’t right! I don’t… I don’t know, and I don’t want to know!” She looked up and stared into Drake’s eyes wildly, “You barely know me,” She pointed out in a thick voice, “And I barely know you. How… How can I pierce your heart? How can I cause you pain?” She shook her head, not able to comprehend the situation at all. “How… how is it you can… how can you hurt me too?” She finally whispered, a hand subconsciously creeping to her heart and clutching at her skin through the dress material. “Why is it that listening to you makes this place ache so much?” She questioned in a helpless, quiet tone.

India gave a bark of deranged laughter before her gaze returned from the floor to Drake’s. “How I feel? How I feel? I don’t bloody know how I feel! Because, you know what? When you’re around me, I’m not sure anymore! I don’t know what I’m doing, what I’m thinking! All I know is, all I can feel is… is frustration. Frustration because I don’t understand; I just don’t understand how you make me feel!” India bit back another rising sob with steely determination, breaking eye contact and looking away from Drake. His stare was drilling holes in her heart, breaking her very soul. “I can’t answer you.” She finally spoke with a firm, low voice, controlling her shaking limbs well. She felt so much like she could collapse right here, right now. But Drake just… he kept pushing her, India could feel her barriers being shoved, being pressurised; they were at breaking point. He kept talking, kept making wild claims of… of feeling for her, and it caused India’s heart to swell, to ram her ribcage painfully. “You’re mistaken, Drake, you can’t want me. You can’t need me. No one needs me.” She repeated again, refusing to believe his words. He was saying them in such a heartfelt way, but… no. Simply no. “You’re lying!” She forced between his insistent words. “And I don’t believe in exceptions. I don’t believe in letting people in. You should… you should have known that!” India demanded helplessly, as if wanting Drake to admit it was his own fault that they were in this situation. “Y-You can’t expect me to… feel the same way.”

“I haven’t… no, I haven’t pierced anything, I haven’t captured anything!” India strongly, thickly stated, shaking her head vehemently. “No! I never wanted to do that! I want people to stay away from me, that is what I want! I like loneliness, I like being on my own. I don’t need love, and I don’t need people. They hurt you, Drake. You’re hurting me right now and I don’t even know why!” India moaned in a half cry, wishing, oh wishing that Drake would go away, that he would just understand. What he was asking of her was impossible; she could not do this. “I can’t make anyone happy, Drake, how can you not see this?! I make people sad, I make people unhappy! I am like the plague. I am no angel! I am the devil in disguise, I am… Satan on earth.” India was really, honestly crying now. Drake’s words, they scared her so much, to her very core. “Don’t say these things!” She gasped between her fountain of tears that had been waiting to flood for so long. They coursed past her cheeks as she turned away from him properly, refusing to let him see her so weak; refusing to let him acknowledge he had dissolved her to this… mess; this defenceless creature. “I only bring pain. Don’t you see. Drake? You can’t love me, and I don’t know how to love either.” Bringing both hands to her face, India wept into them uncontrollably.

It was then India chose to flee. Her heart felt like it was breaking, an immense pain she had never ever felt before. She turned and fled towards the stairs, running rapidly up them. She didn’t even pause between her running and sobbing, but just as she was about to disappear from the older boy’s sight, she stopped and looked down. “I can’t give you an answer, so stop looking for it in me! I can’t find it for you either! Because if I don’t know, how can I tell you? Let’s just pretend we never met and start again! Forget me, Drake, just forget me!” With that word hanging in the balance between them, India turned without another backward glance and disappeared. A few minutes later she collapsed onto her bed, and proper uncontrolled crying tore through her frail body as she sobbed into the lavender-scented covers.

[Drake Manning]

India wouldn't even let him get a word in edge wise, once she had started. She seemed desperate to stop Drake from breaking all of the barriers she had put up. Despite allowing his the real Drake to shine through and feeling so naked, she wasn't going to let him make her do the same. He was both angry and hurt at the same time. Everything she said only threw more walls in his face. She was shutting him out. Her answers were answers of protection. She was stopping every attempt that Drake had thrown at her, even when his attempts had been so different that they normally were. The one time he was open and honest, he was shut out. Maybe this was why he worked the way he did, why he hid behind his masks and his walls. Perhaps India was the smart one though. While they both seemed equally frustrated and confused, at least India still had her defences. Drake was left open and shaking his head in wonderment as India began to run off. "Wait!" he shouted after her. His voice was strained, barely audible as he stood in the middle of the entrance hall as India ran away.

He didn't know why she was so adamant to shut him out. She gave him excuses, but Drake refused to believe them. He could tell she was hurting, which meant that she cared in one way or another. Drake just couldn't figure out how to get her to admit that she cared. Either she really did, or he was just making things worse. "I can love you!" he argued. She was not listening though, and he watched, frozen in place as she turned and left for good. Why didn't he chase her? Why didn't he stop her? He was too open and now afraid to do anything. In anger, he threw the cane that was part of his costume against the ground. It made a loud noise as it cracked against the floor. He let out a scream of anger as he turned to the nearest wall and punched it. The stone wasn't going to budge though, and all he did was cut himself so that his knuckles were bleeding. Knowing that someone might come out of the Great Hall at anytime, Drake hurried out the front doors of the castle and onto the lawn.

It was dark by that time, and he kicked at the ground as he walked. Why did he have to push her? Why wouldn't she answer him with something more than her negative replies? Why did he have to feel this way for her when she seemed to be adamant about not feeling the same way in return? So many questions ran through Drake's mind. He hated the feeling of confusion. He wanted to be in control, yet he was losing control so quickly. India took away his control, and as much as he hated that, he couldn't stop himself from wanting to know India better. He was drawn like the rat that he was to a trap that had caught him and stripped him of every defence he was used to having. It was the most undesirable situation, and yet Drake was drawn in even more despite every bit of anger, confusion, and pain that it caused him. He was determined though to find a way through. He was Drake Manning, and nobody was better at surviving life and playing the games it offered as good as he was.