Impulse
Part 3
"You on the other hand..."
Sanyukta's breath hitched as Randhir whispered those words in her ear, his cool breath sending quivers down her spine. He smelt like sin; a man of smoke and mirrors, hell-bent on ruining her peace of mind, her steady heart. A whoosh of air escaped her lips when his jaw brushed against her cheek, all semblance of logic fleeing her mind. She had never felt like this before, not with anyone else. She...she didn't understand this...
Oh god, her knees felt weak.
Sanyukta strained to hear Tatiana's receding footsteps, catching a glimpse of her dark robes vanishing around a corner, before shoving at Randhir. She needed some space. She...she needed to breathe. She needed to get away!
Taking in gasps of air, hands braced against the castle walls, Sanyukta cursed her impulsive decision. What could've possibly made her act that way? How could she lose her grip on her rationality and just...just kiss someone like that? Not just anyone, but Randhir?
"Sanyukta," his voice caressed her skin softly, his palms resting lightly on her shoulders. She jerked at the contact, turning and brushing past that frustrating, frustrating wizard.
"St-stay away from me!" Her wide, panicking eyes were intent on Randhir, her hands gripping her hair miserably. She could feel the flush of embarrassment at her erratic behaviour warming her face. "Randhir, please, I can't..."
Her heart clenched when she saw the hurt in his eyes, hope quickly draining away from his features. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a few moments, before he walked towards her again.
"What just happened, Sanyukta?" he demanded. His clenched jaw and stoic expression were accentuating the harsh planes of his face. Randhir was getting pissed off now.
Not good!
She stood still, unable to move under his fierce gaze, quite like a prey frozen under its hunter's. Except for her eyes. They were darting all over his face, looking for signs of the boy she sometimes saw: when he was unaware of anybody's presence, enjoying the light breeze at the edge of the Lake; when he was pulling pranks on the Professors, watching his carefully formed plan take fruit and spreading mirth in those beautiful eyes; when he was laughing with his friends, as if determined to enjoy his moments with them to the fullest. Or, when he was teasing her in the hallways, in class, on the castle grounds, at the Quidditch pitch, everywhere humanly possible. The brat who smiled, smirked, preened. She could talk to him, but not this. Not this hurt, angry man standing before her, his thoughts as muddled as her heart.
"I-I don't know," she stuttered, unable to say what she wanted to. Unable to comfort him, reassure him.
"You- we kissed, Sanyukta. What was that?"
Randhir's frustration pricked at her, his magic involuntarily inching towards her in search of what their hearts could not find. She'd read about this before, that a witch or wizard's aura (or Spirit Magique) was unpredictable, made up solely of the deepest of feelings hidden inside them, the purest form of magic coming from within each of us. Emotions.
His aura was just as she'd imagined it to be: determined, playful, and soothing, as it melded with hers. She could feel everything so certainly. It took her breath away. They were perfect together.
Sanyukta snapped out of her reverie as she saw Randhir approach her rapidly. Her breathing quickened when Randhir took a hold of her arms, his palms digging into her flesh. It made her feel woozy. His urgency and desperation left her breathless. She was not the only one suffering, after all. A trickle of confidence flowed back into her veins.
"Sanyukta, listen to me..."
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He stepped towards her, pulling her closer to him. He felt reckless, this feeling of torment clawing inside, eating away at him. His throat clenched when he looked into her eyes, catching a glimpse of hope and yearning glistening behind those lashes. He needed to know what she was...what was she thinking?
"Sanyukta, listen to me," he murmured. "Th-that kiss, did it mean anything to you? Did you-" He cut off, afraid of being so vulnerable in front of the only person capable of getting under his skin and cracking his snarky demeanour.
He watched as Sanyukta took a deep breath, closing her eyes tightly. A frustrated groan escaped him, his grip on her arms loosening. He knew what she'd say. He braced himself for the rejection, the hurt, the pity in her eyes, her pathetic attempts at softening the blow.
He turned away, a shuddering breath escaping his lips.
Dude. Was he crying? Aw, hell no.
He scrubbed the tears away, running his hand through his already messed up hair. He needed to think fast. He couldn't come off as a douche, not him, not Randhir Singh Shekhawat. It was way past curfew, so he'd just leave. He needed to"
"Yes."
The faint whisper, that softly spoken word, made his heart gallop. He whirled around, shock numbing his limbs. What did she just say?
"What did you just say?"
Sanyukta Agarwal, the snobby know-it-all he'd come to fancy for the past few years (he might as well admit it), was struggling with words. He bit back his chuckle at a frazzled Sanyukta opening and closing her mouth in rapid succession. She probably wouldn't like him laughing at her.
"Are you laughing at me?!" she squeaked.
Oh shit.
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Sanyukta couldn't believe this. The brat, the pompous Gryffindor, was laughing at her. All the fear and anxiety brewing within her vanished, incredulous indignance taking its place.
"Randhir," she warned.
A sheepish grin spread across his face, his eyes softening to a point that had her heart clenching and her anger melting. She really needed to stop falling for that particular head-tilt-puppy-eyes tactic that Randhir used on everyone. It was his speciality, his trump card when he got into trouble. She sighed, shaking her head at his antics, a tired smile on her lips.
"Randhir..." she repeated, "it does mean something. You mean something to me."
She couldn't fathom what overcame her, the words spilling from her heart unintentionally. She couldn't understand where this confidence was coming from, this feeling of fuzzy comfort that banished all the control on her senses.
She waited for Randhir to say something, anything. She waited, her breath stuck in her throat in anticipation. She waited, her thundering heart sinking as time passed away in the silence.
What was happening?
Randhir was frozen, his wide eyes staring back at her. Was he having a seizure?
She remembered her mother fussing over her father when she was little, the white-coated people talking about seizures and heart attacks in a Muggle hospital. She remembered being surrounded by strange machines, a worn soft toy clutched in her hands. She could still recall the fear, the desperation, and the sickly hospital smell. She remembered her mother crying, the still hands of her father hanging from her bedside. She could still feel her confused tears, her pleas for Mommy to not cry, being scared, just as she was now, and she hated it. She didn't want to feel like this. She hated it.
She turned away, from him, from her memories, from everything. She wanted him to say something. She needed him to say something. Why won't he say something?
Suddenly, she felt his warm body behind her, pressing so unbearably close to her that she could almost feel his heartbeat. His thundering heartbeat. Quite like hers, at the moment. His strong arms, bare and tensed, with the sleeves of his shirt rolled up, came around her to rest on the wall in front of her, caging her in. Pressed up to her, his body burned her everywhere they touched. Her breath came out in ragged intervals, desire shooting through her at his proximity.
She felt him lean in, his breath tickling her ear, wisps of her hair brushing against her sensitive skin. "So," he breathed, "I matter to you, do I?"
She could almost see the smirk spread across his face, almost feel the ego puffing up in"
Oh Merlin.
Randhir's was suckling her earlobe gently, blowing cool air on it after he felt satisfied. He pushed her against the wall, his hands clutching at hers and pinning them above her head. She felt thankful for his weight behind her, for she was certain that her legs were too weak to hold her up anymore.
"It's you, Sanyukta. It's always been you."
A low rumble formed in her chest, resonating against his. Next thing she knew, she was being whirled around, her hands still trapped in his large palms. The pent up emotions, all that need, that ire, that confusion and uncertainty, all of it burst within her, setting her free from her shackles. She let her magic fly, unwilling to cage in her feelings anymore, and felt it entwine with Randhir's. A groan escaped his lips, his eyes surprised at the sudden onslaught of her emotions. Confused, hooded eyes looked back at her, the soft brown darkening to almost black. She smirked, leaning into him deliberately.
"Pay more attention in class, lover boy," she drawled. She moved her hips against his slowly, pleased at his reaction.
"You'll have to explain later, snobby," he groaned, burying his face in the crook of her neck, "because I cannot stop and listen to you ramble. Even though you look sexy as hell when you go all Ravenclaw on me."
And then he kissed her, soft lips crashing on to hers without pause, passion and magic mingling together to join their aura into one.
This impulse to be with him wasn't bad at all.
-The End-
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A/N: So, this is the end of Impulse. I would like to thank y'all for reading this, and loving this story so much :') It has been all these comments, and the likes, that had me urging to strive on with this fic. I love you all!
On a happier note, I have a surprise for y'all! Since I love this fic, and this universe that I have created [by accident] and since even though this fic is complete, I can't seem to leave it behind, I have decided to write Impulse Outtakes. These will be drabbles, series of OSs, stuff like that all based on this universe. Different perspectives, though. So, head on to the link below if interested!
Do drop in a comment. And cheers to all you Impulse readers. My first complete fic. Can you believe it? I can't xD
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All the HP terms are explained:-
The Lake or the Black Lake: It is a large body of water found to the south of the Hogwarts Castle.
Quidditch Pitch: It is the area where the game of Quidditch is played by the students of Hogwarts. Quidditch is a wizard games, played on flying broomsticks, and the four houses of Hogwarts have matches against each other here in order to win the House cup.
Muggle: Humans who are unaware of magic, or have no magical abilities.
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Anupamaa
