The Other Side: Morning V

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Welcome to "The Other Side", my second series and the little cousin of "Don't leave me hanging", my first series. If you haven't already, you might want to read the previous parts of this series, so that you can understand the story. I'm sorry that I've been out so long! First it was school, then I just lost all inspiration and didn't want to come back without something amazing for you all... I hope these upcoming parts will suffice.

This part is the long-awaited part in Blake's point-of-view! Recap: After being rejected by _______ at the party, Blake drowned himself in more alcohol before finally passing out in a bed full of girls. Vixla drags him out of the room in the early afternoon to look for clothes for her to wear, and, in the process, the two share both intimate and awkward moments which remind them of a past of broken hearts. After receiving a call, Blake leaves Vixla to attend to the appropriate business....

Created by: xxblutixx of From the Notes of xxblutixx
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  1. **Blake** I look out with a critical eye at the white columns and marble flooring of the so-called throne room in my headquarters as I slouch in my polished, ivory-backed chair. The brightness stings my bloodshot eyes. Being the boss around here, one would think I would get to have time to myself whenever I desired, and I desired it right now... I desire it very, very much.
  2. Time alone. In bed. Or maybe with some warm body against mine... mmm, who would it be? Someone soft, kind, cuddly, someone like-. A solid lead weight falls on my heart, constricting its life for a moment as an unbidden image of HER flashes through my mind. Those gentle, apologetic eyes; plush, succulent lips; soft, silken hair. I grit my teeth and bid the image away, forcing my mind on the nearest mundane, systematic thoughts.
  3. I tap my finger impatiently against the armrest of the chair. This is closest to alone time I've had all morning, just me and my thoughts. I depise it. After last night, I'd rather to never be alone with my mind again. But then, I'm not supposed to remember last night. Twenty minutes. I was told 20 minutes ago that the dungeon master, Quincy, had something to tell me. If it was so urgent, I'd expect him not to be late, but then I've heard that he likes doing things his own way. Like me. Like the first time I met - no, I'm not supposed to remember HER. It's tedious that I have to constantly remind myself so often. A clear mind works best for business, and business was what I had to do.
  4. It's noon, and that was 12 hours ago. I should be over it. I drank myself into oblivion last night to speed up the process after all. The last I remember is seeing the sun rising before it was suddenly late morning, and a familiar sharp stinging in my mind and throat had called for a bit of a different type of drink. Somehow finding myself surrounded by a variety of beautiful girls, all with very exposed necks, it wasn't too difficult to sate my thirst, but I not only have the annoying aftereffects of the alcohol still but also the aftereffects of HER that it was supposed to banish.
  5. I would've stayed in bed, slowly indulging myself, and that might have eased HER out of my mind, but Vixla had interrupted, asking for a change of clothes, tsking and rolling her eyes at me at every chance she got. Then she had needed me to unzip her, and it had been surreal. It had been as if things had turned back to normal, before everything had become so complicated. Her irritated demeanor had come back in a flash, but just in the moment there, she had softened, showed that soft, giving demeanor that I had remembered. Later, again, her defenses failed when I found the storm of emotions in her eyes, so familiar to me. That was another thing... that I shouldn't think about. Vixla... what ever had happened. Everything, every little unrelated thing went back and tore at me inside. What did I ever do to deserve this? No. I don't want to answer that either.
  6. Finally, the soft clicking of steps on marble saves me from myself. Quincy enters wearing a pale blue button-up shirt and white slacks, which, along with his white-blond hair, make his almost unbearable to look at due to the brightness. It multiplies my headache... as if I didn't already have a large enough one to begin with. Time to get this over with.
  7. "Mr. Immortal King," he addresses me coolly, so coolly that I can't tell whether or not he's mocking me. "Cut the title, that's just for formalities," I snap. I'm already irritable, and something about him puts me on edge. "Of course," he replies mildly. "Now, Quincy, what is there to discuss that couldn't wait until tonight's meeting?" I ask. "I recovered a trinket that might be of use to you. I believe you meant to obtain it eventually after it was planted, but I saw a ripe opportunity and reached for it. You won't object to my initiative, I hope?" he answers. Those nearly emotionless clear eyes of his irk me. They betray no hints. Politics depends on reading people, but, I swear, this guy could be having the time of his life and you wouldn't be able to tell.
  8. "Well?" I demand when he doesn't continue, "I have other things to do than wait on your every word." He walks up to me, the soft clicking of the step is the only sound in this dead building. Anyone sensible is still sleeping last night off. Once at the side of my chair, he reaches a hand into his pocket, draws out a silver pendant necklace of some sort, and proceeds to dangle it in my face. The necklace has a glass pendant about the size of a quarter in the shape of the heart which looks like its filled with a lot of colorful, misty air. I narrow my eyes, "How did you get that?"
  9. "Simple. I borrowed it from a very... close friend to us both, last night," he replies. Inwardly, I cringe as bits of memory flash through my mind. Clear glass of vodka. Dark balcony... or dark bedroom? A girl, _______... her lips upon mine, a promise, a departure, a heartache, this necklace... the one I gave to her. F***. He did it. He made me think of HER, made me think her name. I entwine my fingers in the fine silver chain of the necklace and yank it away from Quincy, feeling a slight resistance before his fingers reluctantly release it.
  10. "Are you displeased at its early return? Has it not had enough time to fill with her energy?" Quincy questions, keeping the features of his face locked in a frustratingly neutral expression. I wrap my fingers around the pendant now in my palm so tightly that my nails almost dig into my flesh.
  11. There. I can feel the pulse of the energy within the pendant as it beats to the rhythm of _______'s heart, no matter that she's miles away. For the trickery of this necklace, she could be right here, right now, and my lips could be pressed to her, experiencing instead of merely feeling this song of her soul... "No, it is full," I answer, wishing that it weren't and, again, struggling to clear my mind. "Excellent. Do you believe there is enough energy to open them all if they were all in the same place?" he asks.
  12. "Don't be stupid," I snap, struggling to regain my neutral business demeanor, and I quickly relocate my irritation, "We need the girl herself to do that. One measly orb of energy from her can't contest against a centuries-old enchantment." "I was under the impression that you had planted that for that purpose. Are you saying that you merely wanted to give the girl a trinket from you?" Quincy's voice rises up like a venomous snake. Out of control. Treachery impending. Establish dominance. My senses warn me, and my brain works double-time to come up with something that will keep him in check.
  13. "Do you question my motives?" I spit, buying myself time to come up with an adequate excuse. I think back, what had motivated me to give that to her? Yes, I had told most of my allies that it would suck her powers so that we had no need for her, only the necklace, but I knew very well that that wasn't my main motive when I had said it, and I had decided last night that it wasn't my plan at all anymore. This wasn't supposed to happen. She wasn't supposed to lose this. She wouldn't be safe without it. "No, I merely wonder as to the nature of the necklace," Quincy checks himself.
  14. "It was designed to give us a sampling of her power. Everyone has assumed that because the last Milia created the Spirit Necklaces that the new Milia can control them, but it is not proven. We would waste valuable resources hunting her when she is well protected if she actually is unable to help us. I've told Logan time and time again that he shouldn't go on dashing his head against a rock by continuing to pursue the girl as his top priority," I say, spinning a story from half -truth.
  15. "Yes, Logan is illogically rash in situations like these. He would do more good if he didn't have a hornet's brain with a lion's desire to lead," Quincy sniffs, "What is your next plan of action?" "That is what is to be discussed this evening, Quincy," I answer him, narrowing my eyes. His motives are becoming clear to me. He leaks ambition with every carefully honeyed word he utters. "I see," he draws out the "ee" sound very thoughtfully, leaving space for elaboration, but he will have to be unsatisfied. There are rats in my team, there has to be, reporting to my cousin, and, after what happened last night, I can't afford to take chances.
  16. I dismiss Quincy, and as his muted step fades, I'm able to hear the rhythmic pulsing of energy in this necklace instead. I can't afford to take chances... except for this one. This one was necessary.
  17. "What are you looking at, Blakeyyyy?" My blue eyes meet her gray ones, Emilia, leaning over my shoulder, with her strawberry blonde braid of hair languidly draping across me and her grasping hands reaching for the necklace. How she managed to sneak in to my throne room was a matter I'd have to discuss with my guards. Incidentally, she was exactly who I needed to deal with next. Smoothly, I slip the necklace into my pocket, "A reminder."
  18. "How about a reminder to come back to bed? We were waiting and waiting for you after Vixla interrupted. Some of the girls are rather put out," Emilia pouts, making her look even younger than she already is. "Sadly, I had business to attend to, even I cannot get free time," I reply. "It's always business, business, business; you must be so stressed out. How about I help you relax a little?" She offers, starting to knead my shoulders in a massage then running her hands down my chest. She anchors her thumbs in the belt loops of my pants, suggestively tugging them down, just the slightest.
  19. "I actually have one more piece of business to attend to before the elite meeting today," I tell her, causing her pout to deepen, "And it's with you." Grabbing her braid, I swiftly pull back her head to expose her neck. Using my other arm, I bring pull her waist closer to me. The smirk of success is plastered on her face. Oh, this is too easy. The despicable girl.
  20. Using my fangs, I take small sips up her neck, as she sighs in pleasure. I pause when I reach her ear. "It is rather insulting that you take me for a fool," I whisper conversationally into her ear, "Unlike my cousin, drunk or not, I know a botched plan when I see one, and I know that that was YOUR stunt last night." I admit that it's a little satisfying to see her normally condescending eyes widen in horror at being caught red-handed.
  21. "Blake... I... I... no... ," she tries to stammer out, but I've had enough of her badly-formed lies. "You gambled with my people, my plan, and my reputation. Thanks to you, there are dozens injured, 6 dead, our most important artifact missing, and, once the alliance learns, my reputation down the drain and my hold weakens. You threaten the entire objective," I hiss, "Why should I forgive you?"
  22. "I switched! I really did! Blake, I love you, please, take me. I want you. You only," Emilia hysterically declares, trying to mash her lips against mine. It's a shame; she was a better kisser when she wasn't trying to lie so blatantly. "No. You've always had one side. You loved Jack, but you couldn't have him. I could always see the way you looked at him," I divulge, watching her eyes widen even further in surprise and the hurt surfaced soon after. So it was true. Just as I thought.
  23. Right on schedule, one of Logan's wolves pads into the room and phases to his human form. "Take her to Logan. He knows what to do," I order, passing Emilia off into the werewolf's hands. Emilia pales in response, "Logan? No. No. Logan knows? Don't do this. Blake! Blake!!! I never meant to hurt you!"
  24. "Doesn't everyone," I mumble to myself, looking down at the heart pendant back in my hand. That had run a little longer than I had planned, and now I was late to my meeting with my elites. I close my hand over the necklace and stick my hands in my pockets as I walk out of the room. Yes. Everyone loved Jack.
  25. ~ Now that you've seen the inside of Blake's mind, what do you think? Did you learn something you've been wondering about? Did your opinion on him change or strengthen? Tell me in the comments :)

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