"No." I gasp.
"Yes." He replied as a matter of a fact, holding my hand for leaping over a heap of broken branches.
"You can't be serious," I say, letting go of his hand shortly after to hug my textbooks closer to my chest, nudging the bridge of the glasses back onto my face. "I mistook you then."
"For?"
"Slytherin!"
"Although I have been known to be cunning and ambitious, but I am not exactly prideful," Greysan said, smiling generously. My bag twirled from on his side as he drew me close with a tug to my waist, my hip hitting his. He was mere inches taller. Lately I hadn't worn jeans, so while I wore tights Greysan saw it as a chance to tease me with his flaring touch. I could tell he secretly loved the feeling of my skin under the stretchy fabric.
He leaned towards my ear, burying his nose through my opened and messily long layered hair, his breathe warmly fanning my neck. "In all honesty, I am secretly a Hufflepuff."
"You can't be serious," I joke, looking into his dazzled eyes. Too close, too close for the old me to be comfortable with, yet, now I felt nothing but delight to be bundled his arms. Wrapping an arm under him and around his torso, I give him a light squeeze.
He hadn't attended school today, and despite feeling my heart drop from not seeing him in class, I realized just how much I missed him when he appeared by my locker at the end of the day. He wore a pale beige hoodie with a dark denim jacket and closely fitted dark pants. And looked so damned good, his biceps were straining and flexing with each movement, his grin creating slight dimples to appear on either sides, eyes glittering and then his crowned feature, that boyish rogue grin.
Pack meeting with the Alpha he exclaimed with a roll of his eyes, exhaustion wearing his expression. It seemed as if he hadn't bothered with his messy hair, a cloud of brown sleeked to a side. It looked nice on him.
No wonder Sengara was missing today. I wonder if she enjoyed the meeting as much as I would have, although humans, under no circumstances, were allowed to attend.
We had walked the path home together, his shoulder bearing my bag and holding my coffee mug in his empty hand as he hugged me with his other side. I felt as if I were burning up in the cream colored sweater and beanie I had worn with fur lined brown boots when I was besides Greysan.
"I solemnly swear on the graves of Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs, I am indeed." He cried in outrage, glaring at me.
"Oh yeah? What a coincidence," I chide. "That a certain, somebody is also Hufflepuff."
"That was sort of predictable," Greysan mused, clicking his tongue. I smack his chest playfully, Greysan passed a sidelong glance with feigned disappointment. "It is true. You're hardworking. You have so much dedication to whatever you choose to do, it always seems... extra." I winced inwardly and hoped he wouldn't notice how sour my face at turned at the word.
Greysan hadn't luckily. "You have the patience of Dumbledore, loyalty of Snape, smartness of Hermione, modesty of Remus -I don't know many who would be willing to explain the same example to everyone in the class, separately, and not want to rip at their hair. I would want to scream by the fourth time someone asked to repeat the same thing. Even whenever you correct Mr.Hez's calculations, you sound so sincere, respectful and never cocky. Everyone you meet likes you," He paused and amended his words when he caught me watching gravely. "Well, except, for those few bitches who glare at you from the back of the room. They're irrelevant though."
I shake my head, glasses slipping down again slightly. "And I could care less for those people. As for the matter of my patience, everyone is different and take their own time when comprehending. It is known to be my biggest asset, explaining difficult matters easily," my smile faltered at the thought of a memory arising before my eyes, a wave of sad heaviness incoming. "Even if they may not be easy for me."
We arrived to the ring of houses and were in the center of them when Greysan pressed at my waist and stopped me with a gentle grip to my arm. We whirl. Our eyes lock in a hypnotic state, the darkening eyes of honey drawing the life from me in a wave of lust and belonging.
"You," He said too hoarsely, closing in and stopping an inch from my face. The hair stood from my neck, and I was breathless from thinking what he could have seen. Too close!
"You," He smacked his lips and I shuddered, "are worth it all. Whatever makes you feel as if you are alone and question yourself, know that you are loved and focus on appreciating that feeling. I won't ask, because I know then you'll feel inclined to answer. Happiness is what you choose it to be and I, Greysan Salvatore believe in you as much as anyone else," He cracks a small smile, pushing the glasses back to my face. "No Mate bond, I promise."
Things were becoming so blurred between us, I was alarmed at the rate we had progressed. We hadn't talked about what we meant to one another besides being Mates, which only he, his cousin, my crew and I knew. It felt like only yesterday, when in fact it had been two weeks ago since I granted the lunch Greysan to redeem himself for breaking and entering.
Hearing Greysan stagger back, I take back my bag and mug, heart fluttering, with a small smile that had awaken somehow. Greysan gave a mocking, stifled bow on the spot, earning a huffed laugh from me before we both turned our heels to go home.
Greysan, I realized, was that character you thought was the antagonist at first glance in a book but later realized is the reason your protagonist has survived and is in love with them and become another essential point of view you want. The smug looks, darkness, courage and willpower, it made him stronger.
The lock had just tumbled into place when I heard my name being called too dangerously low. Unzipping the boots, I was just padding in when my mother's short figure appeared from the kitchen ahead.
My mother loved to have her purposely shorten hair bound up with a clip, like I would, while she wore some old shirt, today mint, usually stained with bubbles from cooking and flanneled PJ'S. Her acupuncture slippers looked new I noticed. I winced and wisely so. She would constantly need to buy new ones every third month, though they were strongly made they'd sustain at least one or if lucky, two good beatings before tearing. The time she used them on me was the day of Vaisakhi after meeting Greysan once they all got back.
"Mani," my mother's molten brown eyes flared when surveying me gravely. Her voice had an icy ring aftermath. "Do you have a boyfriend?"
I froze, feeling bits of nausea crawl up my windpipe. "What's a boy?" I ask back rather frantically a cold sweat breaking out from my head and palms.
Shit. It's Friday, I curse viciously. My hand instinctively began the picking on my other hand's frayed fingernail. Friday were my mother's day off, I swore. Had I not noticed her silver Audi parked in the driveway? Had I been so careless that...shit. Friday day off and cook day.
Our kitchen's window had a direct view of the driveway and curb of houses.
Sweat began to produce much quicker. I stood like I was, bag straining on my shoulder and head slumped with no words left for a good defense.
I'd rather be trampled by a herd of cows than face this. There was nothing in this world that scared me more than my my own mother. She was never hesitant to raise a hand if she felt it was necessary to make a point across.
"Ma-"
"Have you even thought once about what will the rishta will think!" My mother shrieked, slapping me before stalking away.
"What rishtaa?" I blurt. As an Aquarius, I was told to be unpredictable and to never to bare a false accusation, so most likely this is why my parents believed I had an 'attitude' problem. I always fought when they yelled, never suffered any backlash without throwing a few good defenses in hope they'd listen for a change to what I had to say. They never did. And this, always happened. "I am only 18."
"Mani, you know the eyes of those old bibi's are like CCTV cameras, forgot about finding a husband here with these new shenanigans of yours with that gora. We'll be in need to move to India to find the next eligible bachelors for you if you keep seeing that gora!" My mother threatened like she always did when she felt as if I was wrong.
My eyes stung. I was never believed in, even as a child my future was arbitrary set. High school, degree, wedding, Master's, child one, job, child two, their education, their marriages and then work til death. I knew my parents wanted me married and gone young, like 24-26, but to think they were already in such a hurry at the age of 18.
Was I wrong to believe I could make it with Greysan?
Marriages out of caste were frowned upon despite the century we currently recede in. And with my parent's mentality, there was no hope of escape unless I were kidnapped, but then even I'd be shun and a disgrace to the family name.
I was never allowed a life for myself; a career I choose willingly and not for the pay, or a happy childhood with friends, one that I was denied, and now I had no say in who'd be the bearer of my children, whose life I end mine with, and whose last name would be on my headstone.
My mother's rant could be heard the way up from the staircase. "Dimag cut hega..."
[She has less of a brain...]
...
Glossary
੧।Gora ~Caucasian male
੨।Rishta/Rishtaa (plural) ~Wedding proposals; (in most cases, arranged)
First day back and I already don't like!
*throws reverse uno card*
~xm_vermanx15~