Momentum ((Drake)) [PG-13]

[India Nightingale]

((This thread contains strong language. You must be aged 13 years old or over if you wish to read - proceed at your own discretion.))


'Forgive me the confusion,
forgive me as I realise my thoughts betrayed.
You are the answer,
cry and smile the same.'
-- Momentum, Vienna Teng

The sky rolled grey as green-blue flashed emerald and teal, reflecting the thunderous clouds. It would rain soon. India blinked, expressionless, as her face fell from the sky and turned towards the castle in the distance. It was majestic against the darkness, impenetrable and indestructible, and it suddenly struck India how much Hogwarts, with its never-ending corridors, centuries-bred prejudices and whispers of ghosts and grapevine, was her home. It was a haven, a safehouse, a place to hide against the rest of the world. Yet, in that sanctuary lay a monster. One day it would devour her completely, ingest her whole, and India would never be the same again.

Wait. A hand hovered over her sight, obscuring the stone-grey. India had already been consumed. It was too late. She was too far gone. Her heart heard this with thudding pain, and she continued numbly towards shelter. Try as she might, the dull ache in her chest still persisted, day and night, even in her dreams that seemed cleansed of all nightmares, save those where his face swam into view, with his background of pictures and art strokes. She could see them all, his work, splashed behind like wallpaper, whilst the originals slept under her bed, a secret. It was a heavy burden she didn't have the strength to let go.

It had been a few weeks since India's last confrontation. The memory was already fraying, which she was thankful for. Anything to do with him was shoved mercilessly into the back of her mind. She had no will or energy or desire to deal with him, and the feeling appeared to be mutual. Truth be told, India was so exhausted with them - whatever it was that connected the two of them so solidly - she was close to the brink of slipping down and performing a memory-loss charm on herself. Sometimes it seemed so much kinder to forget. The horror and pain of memory could disintegrate a soul, steadily erode it until there was nothing left but bones.

Loose blonde hair roamed across her face as a growing breeze picked up her slight body and threatened to throw it to the earth. India stood her ground, stubborn streaking through her gaze, and she grappled an invisible enemy towards her destination. It seemed even nature was against her. She was sick of fighting with the world, but nonetheless India grit her teeth and faced forward. She had vowed that she would not run away anymore... So far she had faced wan success, except in the figure of Drake Manning. A personal charm, a stalking shadow that never left the remnants of her mind, always a participant of her pain, yet also the remedy to her illness. India didn't know where she stood, and no longer did she find it gratifying.

Only Drake would ignore the clustering storm overhead. Damn. India's eyes settled on him and fought the urge to scream, to run. There he was, bench and eyes and all. He did not see her. It took India several seconds to force her feet to move - forwards. Slowly she approached him, the imminent rain forgotten, neglected, ignored. Her voice was found and she began to speak. "Drake." It was shaky, like a maple leaf in the winter gust, but it was fighting for survival; a candle dying not to be extinguished. In contrast, she watched his shoulders hunch, stiffly ignorant, frozen in the stale air, and knew she had to grasp her resolve with a tighter hand. "Drake. Look at me." Finally, when he failed again to acknowledge her, India's arm lashed out and grabbed his collar, pulling him with strength she did not normally possess towards her. Their eyes met. "I said look at me," she hissed, too little venom and too much herself. "Coward."

[Drake Manning]

As he had been doing for the past few weeks, Drake isolated himself, finding a quiet bench in the courtyard. Life at Hogwarts didn't matter to him anymore, so while the rest of the seventh years were either studying for N.E.W.T.s or planning their farewell from the castle that had housed them for the past seven years, Drake was sitting alone, daydreaming what it might be like to move on. The first thing he'd do when he got out of school would be to move out of his parents' house. The last thing he wanted to do was go back to the confined place he called home. It was worse than Hogwarts. He planned to live on his own, though the practicalities of where and how he might pay for it were not as certain. Luckily for him, his parents had provided everything he needed for now, but they surely wouldn't send him off with a handful of galleons if he was leaving with no plan or purpose in life. That meant he'd need a job. How bloody perfect was that? Drake let out a low grumble of frustration. His life was a complete mess.

Distracting him from his woeful thinking, Drake heard his name being called. It was a quiet and familiar voice; one that he even thought that he might be imagining. It was the last voice he wanted to hear at that moment. Why couldn't he just get India out of his head? He ignored it, feeling the certain humidity in the air and knowing that it might pour down rain at any moment. Maybe the rain would wash away the voices in his head. Then again, maybe not. The voice got louder, almost to the point where he started to wonder if he could possibly be imagining a voice so real. At the command to look at her, Drake felt a hand on his collar and a shiver ran down his back. This was real. It wasn't just his imagination. India was standing right behind him.

They were now face to face, his eyes locked helplessly onto hers as she spat scornful words in his face. He sat there adamantly, refusing to say anything to her. Why was she even here anyways? Couldn't she just walk past him without asking for another encounter? Why did she keep coming back for more? More pain. More arguments. More hatred exchanged between the two of them. More feelings... feelings that neither of them could quite figure out. He sat there and simply starred at her facial features, noting every little line of emotion that were etched into her eyes and the way that they were narrowed, her lips and the way that they formed a tight frown, and her jaw which seemed to be holding back the bitter words she was so clearly filled with. A weak voice made its way through his chest and to his mouth. "Look at you?" he questioned in disbelief. "I'm trying to forget you." He shook his head slightly.

[India Nightingale]

India's fingers shook against Drake's delicate, breathing neck. "Forget?" she echoed in a low, burning hiss. "Forget? Don't p*** with me, Drake! I forgot you, against my will, so you turn your back on me even when I begged you to help me - and now you want to forget?! You - you really are a coward! You can't do this to me, Drake! This isn't a game anymore! Can't you just be honest and stop running away?!" India felt stinging tears leap to her eyes, but she blinked them away furiously. She refused - absolutely refused - to submit to her weaknesses right now - not when she needed to be strong in the face of what - or rather, who - appeared to be her greatest weakness. "I am not leaving until you talk to me," India threatened with dark menace and intent. "I am not going to run away. I am not going to shed another tear for you. I am not going to give up. I am going to get the answers I want, honestly and without fear." Her eyes shone bright with determination.

"I am sick of skirting around you, sick of yelling in order to get through to that thick skull of yours. I'm not asking for you to tell me your deepest secrets, I'm not asking for the world, Drake! I'm asking for you to be honest with me for once, without your petty games and cowardice, so I know where I stand with you! Because, you know what? I can't forget you. Not again, not ever, and I can't live again if you don't help show me the way. You are so f-ing important and you can't even see that!" With a violent snarl, India released her hold of Drake's shirt, pulling back with a grit of her teeth. "How far do I have to go to make you acknowledge me again?" she asked, bitterness and resentment now more evident in her tone of voice. "How far, Drake? I can't play this game forever." A hint of tiredness was quickly suppressed by rising frustration. "I'm not a toy. I'm a human being, I have feelings! I have too many of these feelings - I am too dependent on you, for some insane and stupid reason!"

India paused in her tirade. Her eyes, still fiery, stared down at Drake in disgust, anger and resentment. "What would it take, Drake?" she asked, her voice considerably quieter, almost defeatist. "What would it take to have you grow up, huh? Do you want me to give up on you too? Shall I forget you again? A simple memory charm would do the trick, on me and you. Do you want to know where your precious sketchbook went?" India threw her head back and laughed bitterly, turning away from Drake and shaking her head. She couldn't quite believe what she was saying, but it had to be said. She had to, she couldn't take it anymore, keeping all of these feelings and words inside of her breaking body. "Do you want to know? I'll tell you, Drake. I took it. I went into your dormitory and I stole it." She sneered derisively at Drake. "Right under Cyrus Thorn's nose - and right under yours. And yeah, I looked through it." India's eyes hardened as they gazed upon Drake, ready for his reaction. "Are you angry, Drake? For invading your life? Welcome to my world. Welcome to my f-ing world."

[Drake Manning]

As India's words of spite poured over him, Drake simply sat, stone-faced and emotionless. He wasn't really emotionless though, but he wanted to make India think that he was. He wasn't about to let her know just how angry she was making him. She already knew what she could do to him. Rather, Drake wanted her to squirm. He wanted her to be the angry one this time, and he wanted her to have no satisfaction in getting a response out of him.

As usual, her overly dramatic antics were spattered with the typical India snarl that soon lead to her begging. Drake smirked to himself when the begging began. She always retreated to this, which amused him. Even when she knew exactly the games that he was capable of, she seemed to always come back for more. In a way, he felt bad for her. When would she ever realize that she was fighting a losing battle. Nobody could get through that "thick" skull of his that she seemed to know oh-so-well.

It would take a miracle, he thought to himself in response to India's question. He wasn't going to say anything though, wanting to remain silent. However, it seemed that India had just the right ammunition, which she fired straight at Drake, giving him no choice but to respond. He jumped to his feet, this time taking India by the collar like she had taken his. "You thief!" It was her whole had stolen his notebook. Drake should have known. He felt so stupid that he hadn't thought of it. India had been trying to get his attention for so long now, begging him for answers that he was trying to keep to himself. And it shouldn't have come as any surprise to Drake that she'd do whatever it took to get him to give her the answers he wanted.

He let go of India's shirt, shoving her away from him as his angry eyes starred into hers. "I tried to be a part of your world, India. I tried... and you wouldn't let me. I told you I needed you, and you walked away. What more do you f-ing want? Do you want me to say it again? Do you want me to need you? Is that what it will take to get you to stop stalking me? Run to Cyrus. Run to Cyrus f-ing Thorne, India. Maybe he'll take care of your feelings. This isn't a game to me either. This is life, and I'm trying to keep you out of mine!" Drake was yelling at this point, but it was probably the most truthful he had been in a while. Sadly enough, he wasn't being truthful with himself, and so the truth was coming out as twisted and untrue as it could.

[India Nightingale]

India knew Drake would be angry. With triumphant eyes she watched as he rose towards the bait, fury and rage and everything India had been looking for from him as acknowledgement of her existence in his life. She barely flinched as Drake mirrored her previous action, grabbing her by the front of her top, unable to contain his wrath. India stared stubbornly into his face, eyes glazing bright with I told you so. She was no longer afraid of the consequences of Drake learning about the truth; there was no need to fear Cyrus Thorn's blackmail.

India stumbled backwards upon release and quickly resumed a stock-still stance, glaring defiantly back at Drake, unwilling to compromise. Her arms crossed over her chest as she shook off Drake's invisible hold. As he unleashed words upon her that no doubt had been stored within his mind for months, India remained motionless in his face of fury. And she listened to them, an indifferent expression falling over her that was not at all unfamiliar.

Calmer, more composed, India was able to reply to Drake's spiteful words with dignity and reason. "I was scared," she admitted without a flicker of her eyes. "I was scared of you, Drake. I barely knew you. I barely know you. What did you expect? That I would be like every other girl in your life? That I would fall at your feet like Ryann Taylor? Or use you like an object like Seana Melling?" India shook her head resentfully. "I'm not like other girls. I've never asked for pity because of my past, but I'm not like them. I can't express myself properly, I can't understand people. They scare me."

India turned away from Drake. So far she had used the word 'scared' three times; more than she had perhaps used her whole lifetime. A wistful look twisted onto her face. "I don't want anything from you, Drake," she muttered with a tormented frown. "You expected too much from me too soon, not vice versa. You can't blame everything on me. Open your eyes, Drake. It's right in front of you." Frustration crept slyly into India's tone, but she quickly quashed it as she continued. "I'm not stalking you," she said calmly, trying to combat Drake's flying accusations. "I just want you to acknowledge me instead of playing a coward and running away. I think it's time we both stopped running."

India had been patient so far; she had successfully maintained serenity for five minutes. However, when the name Cyrus Thorn fell from Drake's spitting lips, India's own rage flared with abandon. "Don't you dare make this about him!" she hissed furiously, unable to believe Drake's immature attitude and cowardice. "This is about me and you! You have no idea what he's like. I would never associate with a man like him if I could help it!" India's dignity, bruised and stung at Drake's implied accusations, roared for revenge upon the man standing before her. "The times I have defended you in front of him!" she spat regretfully.

India absorbed Drake's final, cutting words with a frozen rigidity. Her eyes, flared wide with emotion, stared upon his equally furious figure. She hurt inside, every syllable that left Drake's mouth a scratch upon her delicate skin. India couldn't take it anymore. Drake was the only man in the world who could reduce her to tears; to ash. And she hated it. Perhaps it would be best to just forget him, a voice whispered tenderly. A wise move, but India had never been wise. But where else could she turn now? "Fine," she whispered, a little broken through the defiance. "This is the end, Drake." India's fingers curled into trembling fists as she took a step away from him; one step further gone. "I promise I'll never find you again. I promise not to stalk you. I promise on my god-forsaken life that I will never be a part of your life ever again."

India couldn't do it anymore. If she continued fighting Drake there would be nothing left of her to salvage. She had to free him, herself... Leave their past behind. What was done was done, India of all people should know that. Yet still it hurt her heart as, with steeled eyes and a steeled voice, she turned and walked away. "I will owl your sketchbook back," were her last, curt words before she faded away from Drake forever. At last... "It's over."

[Drake Manning]

Maybe India's words held truth, and maybe they meant something to Drake, but he wouldn't have known. He let them all bounce off of his self-constructed wall of protection; a wall that he had spent so many years creating to keep others out. It was a wall that he had willingly taken down for India once, but when she responded in the way she did, Drake put it right back up, vowing to never let her take it down again. And so, even if the words she had for him now were heartfelt and even sincere, Drake wouldn't have known. He blocked them out like they were intruders, and he refused to let any of them sink in.

"Good. Great! THANK YOU!" he shouted as India threw promises his way, promises to stay away from him and promises to never be a part of his life again. And then, she promised to owl him his sketchbook. At that point, Drake could have cared less about the sketchbook. After all, it was filled with images that made him think of India. Almost everything in the sketchbook was related to her in one way or another. Drake didn't want it anymore. But he also didn't want her to have it. Perhaps he'd burn it when she sent it back to him.

As she walked away, Drake contemplated all that he might say, but words failed him in that moment. A blend of feelings fought for control as he felt his heart rate quicken. India had so much control over him that he knew he'd never be able to relinquish if she were a part of his life, and that scared him. And that's why he was so hell-bent on getting her out of his life. He couldn't afford (or at least wasn't ready) to let someone else have that kind of control over him. India cause him to become erratic, more so than he was naturally. Drake kept telling himself that it was best to be done with her for good, and so he watched her walk out of his life forever.

Finally. Drake waited for the rush of relief to wash over him when India said that it was finally over, but there was nothing. No sudden release from all the pain. No renewed feeling. No relief. Drake clenched his teeth tightly together as India walked away from him. He had finally gotten her to be the one to walk away, and yet he felt more lost and confused than ever. Maybe there wasn't a solution to all of his problems. Maybe India wasn't what caused him so much grief and frustration. Maybe it was Drake himself, and by pushing India away he would only be left to deal with his sad and pathetic self. Dammit.