As the river flows

Chapter 6

“So?”

“So?” Ankit looked up from his sketchbook. Laura was sitting beside him with her head cradled in her hands, an eager sort of expression on her face, putting him instantly on edge. “What?”

“So…you and Damon, huh?” She asked

“What! What do you mean?” spluttered Ankit, looking away from her.

“Oh! So you weren’t dancing with him last night? Did I go blind? Was I seeing things?” She said, poking him in the side, making him squirm away from her treacherous hands. Her hands grew more insistent, tickling his sides, as he tried to move away from her.

“S-Stop!” He laughed even despite it all and tried to grab her hands, as she doubled her efforts.

“No! Never!”

“Have mercy!” He shouted as he jumped over the coffee table in a bid to escape her hands.

“Tell me what is going on, then!”

“Nothing’s going on!” He said spreading his arms wide, raising his brows, hoping she would believe him. “We just danced!”

“Just danced, my ass! You were practically glued to him!” she accused, slowly rounding the table.

“What! No!” He denied vehemently, even as he could feel the blush rising on his face, backing away slowly towards the door.

“Oh, come on! Just tell me!” she whined, giving him the best pouty, glittery eyed look that she could muster.

“Ugh! Nothing happened, okay!” He threw his hands in the air.

“But you want it to.” She said slyly, laughing as his face flushed harder, looking away to hide his red face, not even protesting the truth behind the words. She was happy for him. The two weeks that she had known Ankit, she had come to harbor a soft spot for the kind eyed boy. Everything about him made her want to reach out, wrap him up in a blanket and protect him. It was incredible really, how fast they had fallen into this friendship, like it was always meant to be. At least that’s what she would like to believe. She had always been a trusting soul, but the speed with which she had accepted him into her life and heart was truly unparalleled. There was just something so honest and genuine about the way he approached the world around him, that it left her feeling completely at ease with herself and her doubts. She knew this would be a friendship that she would cherish with all her heart.

It was nice to see him so enamoured by another.  To see his eyes sparkle like it had the night before, when they were dancing so unabashedly at the pub. She didn’t really know Damon, but he seemed nice enough, and she hoped that it would lead to something that would bring happiness to her friend’s heart.

“He’s cute, okay!” He mumbled shyly, hiding his face in his hands.

“Awn, baby! You don’t have to be shy! He is kinda cute!” she said. She walked up to him and wrapped her arms around him, dragging them both down onto the sofa. They fell in a heap of limbs. He rested his head on her shoulder, sighing deeply.

“He really is,” he sighed dreamily. “We’re going to a rave tonight. Wanna come with?”

“Oh my god! Yeah! I’ve been dying to go to a party for the past two weeks! Hell yeah!” she says, making Ankit laugh.

                                                                                       ----

Seven thirty in the evening found him in the middle of a crisis. What to wear to this rave! (So no, no one was dying, but this is important, alright!)

All the pictures that he had seen of La Possession had been of people without their shirts on (boys and girls alike), and one with hands that suspiciously seemed to belong to a pair that were either in the middle of or going to start having s*x. It was all very liberating and exciting to say the least.

Ankit was brimming with a heady sort of energy that fizzled right below his skin, leaving him feeling on edge and agitated. He was excited about the event today. There was just something in the air that night that felt imminent, like something was just waiting to begin. It was electrifying. It sparked across his skin, making him breathless. There was a sense of premonition in the breeze that rushed in through the open balcony door, making him shiver.

The sultry tones of Michael Buble floated across the room from his laptop as he tried on the tenth outfit for the night. His bed was already a mess of clothes, piled on top of each other. It had been a revelation when he realized that he did not have anything to wear except for plaid pants and band t-shirts. And while he really loved his style during the day and felt confident, it seemed like such a faux pas to dress like a fifty year old goth at a rave. Especially when he was trying to look his best. He had someone to impress today! But then again, if they couldn’t like him as himself, was there even a point?

Sighing, he threw away the t-shirt that was in his hand, the one that was almost identical to the twenty other shirts that were strewn across the floor, and plopped down on the bed defeated.

That’s how Laura found him half an hour later. On the bed, surrounded by his own mess. She was dressed in a black corset top, jeans, leather jacket and lace up boots.

“What the hell! Ankit! Why aren’t you ready? We leave in half an hour!” she screeched, stomping into the room and pulling him up by the hand. Groaning he got up off the bed.

“I don’t have anything to wear!” He whined, pulling at his hair in frustration.

“What do you mean? Have you seen the sheer amount of clothes in this room?” She gestured incredulously.

“But it’s plaid!” He complained, picking up the closest piece of clothing to him. It was a t-shirt. “Or this!”

“Uh…You have a point!” she said looking at the clothes carefully. “Uh…okay, okay…I have an idea! Wear those maroon plaid pants.”

“Are you sure?” Ankit asked reaching for the offending piece of clothing with a skeptical twist of his mouth.

“Just wear it! I’ll be back in a sec!” She said, rushing out of the room.

Sighing for what felt like the hundredth time that evening, he pulled up the pants. Just as he was closing the button, Laura burst into the room.

She stopped beside him and thrust something into his chest. He took it and looked at it suspiciously. It turned out to be a black crop top with a high turtleneck. It had slits up the sides that were laced together, leaving a large gap on the sides. Ankit gaped at it. It was a risqué top to say the least.

“I-I can’t wear THIS!” He exclaimed looking at her.

“Why not?”

“It’s- It’s…Have you seen this?” He said pointing at the piece of clothing.

“What’s wrong with it?” She asked, quirking an eyebrow, daring him to say anything.

“Nothing!” He said backtracking. “It’s just…what if it doesn’t fit me?”

“Just try it on! “ She said, shoving him lightly.

He gave her one last pleading glance, but at her unrelenting gaze, he gave in.

Taking off his top, he shoved his arms and head through the tiny piece of fabric. Once it was on, Laura sat him down, whipping out a bag full of makeup.

“What! I’m not putting that on!” He protested, but all his whining fell on deaf years.

“Just trust me, will you?”

Fifteen minutes and a lot of prodding and poking later, Laura announced “Done!”

“You look amazing,” she announced.

He turned to the mirror and sucked in a breath. He looked…well, he looked hot. Damn! His eyes were rimmed with golden glittery eye-shadow, making them look bigger and more doe-like than ever before. The light blush on his cheeks made it seem like he had been in a sun for a tad bit too long, and the soft pink lip balm put it all together. He had never seen himself look so good before. Even the pants looked great he decided, turning this way and that.

“I look good.” He said, the words coming out like a question.

“Of course you do! Do you see your ass?” She asks with a slap to his butt. “Stunning!”

Ankit swatted at her wandering hands, blushing profusely.

“Okay! Let’s go turn some heads!” Laura announced, pulling him behind her, as she headed to the door.

They were going to meet the others in one of the pubs in Marais before heading to the rave. Apparently they were going to be meeting one of Damon’s friends who was also bringing some of her own friends to the rave.

The plan was simple. Go to the pub. Eat. Go to the rave. Party hard. Go to Damon’s place. Chill. Have breakfast somewhere, and finally come home.

But rarely do things go as smoothly, and even the most well thought out plans can be laid to waste by a slight change in the variables. And Ankit became aware of this very unsavoury truth the moment he walked into the pub and his eyes connected with the same piercing grey gaze that had haunted his nightmares, for the past one week.