The Other Side: Morning II

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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. This part will be in Vixla's point-of-view. Originally, I planned for this to be 2 parts, but since it's all on Blake, I merged then, so it could be a bit of a long read! Also, results for my contest appear at the end.

Recap: Vixla woke up with a nasty hangover in the same room as Oliver, Kyle, and Jared. Haunted by memories of a diasterous reunion with Jack the night before, all she wants to do is change out of her now staticky and uncomfortable dress and go home for some rest before she has to attend an elite team meeting later in the evening. Though she didn't want to, she had to get Blake out from his fangirl-filled room to have him act as her guide.

Created by: xxblutixx of From the Notes of xxblutixx
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  1. "Aren't you cold?" I ask Blake, since he still hasn't put a shirt on, as we walk down the hallway. "Nah, I'm always hot," Blake twists his mouth into a grin at me. Maybe it's because he always says it, but today, that little remark just seems to fall flat. It's as if he didn't put enough effort into it or his spirit just wasn't into it. Or maybe I've just become indifferent to it from all the times he's said it... or maybe I'm just being paranoid about people after what happened last night...
  2. I vigorously shake the thought out of my mind. No, there was a reason I drank last night, and all my effort would be wasted if I let my mind stray there now. Maybe I should just stop thinking... but then again, I've never been so skilled at that. And apparently, I'm thinking way too hard about thinking or not thinking because I almost run into Blake when he stops in front of a door, but I manage to save my dignity and grace by stopping myself just in time. Still, it's a little too close for comfort. I can feel his body heat radiating off his skin, and my head is nearly rested upon his shoulder.
  3. Surprisingly enough, he doesn't make some comment about his "unresistableness" and merely unlocks the door to the room, opening it and stepping inside. It's just another hotel room except that it has a few extra dressers and a trunk chest at the base of the bed. The bed itself looks plusher than the rest, but perhaps it's just the rich plum-colored comforter that gives the impression or maybe because the room is locked and this bed was used less often. Whatever it is, it doesn't really concern me, and I turn to watch as Blake rifles through the contents of the overstuffed dressers. The pristine neatness of the room is ruined as he throws articles of clothing behind him in order to clear the drawers more so he can look into them better.
  4. I stand behind him and catalogue the clothes on the ground, looking for a suitable outfit that would cover enough of me to count as an outfit. So far, I see a plethora of lacey items, skimpy nightgowns, dresses that I'd mistake for shirts if there hadn't been a skirt attached. I'm definitely starting to regret this, and I know I'm going to take a shower and change into my own clothes as SOON as I get home.
  5. As if reading my mind, Blake remarks, "They're all clean, just so you know." I resist the urge to make a face at him behind his back before bending to sift through the clothes, eventually choosing a pair of jean shorts and an embellished tank top. "Done choosing. You can leave to go back and continue doing that redhead of yours," I tell Blake. "First, she's strawberry blonde. Second, we weren't doing anything- yet. And third, are you saying you don't enjoy my company?" he asks as he stretches himself out atop the bed, clearly showing no intent to leave.
  6. "I was more concerned that she was missing the pure pleasure of your company. She seemed to communicate that with a sharpened glance as soon as you left your room," I say saracastically, "But also, I'd like to change, so I can get back to my house." Blake lifts an arm into the air and snaps his fingers, "So you do want to leave me." "Can you just leave so I can change?" I request more respectfully. "I don't have to leave for you to change," Blake responds back, and I'm about to make a snappy comment when I realize that his arm is still up in the air and is pointed to a door in the wall I hadn't noticed earlier. Of course. The bathroom. Slightly embarrassed at my overlooking it, I walk into the room with as much dignity as I can keep and shut the door tightly, locking it.
  7. "I'll wait for you out here," Blake calls out. No, I didn't need to deal with him again, so I tell him, "No it's fine, go ahead and do something more important like your girlfriend." "She can wait," he replies back lazily, "And, I'm single." "Could've fooled me with the way your hand was so strategically placed on her chest," I say as I struggle to pull down the zipper on the back of my dress. It's gotten stuck mid-back, the worst place because my wings are getting in the way. "I think your eyes skimmed over her hands on my wrists," Blake points out.
  8. Thinking back, I think I did see her hands on his. Ick, worse. "So you'll let her control your hands," I reply in my best bored voice as I try to pretend that I'm not having an extremely aggravating battle with the zipper on my dress. "It's the least I could do for the girl sating my... supernatural desires," Blake says. Supernatural desires, hah! More like thirst for blood, I think, but I don't let the words leave my mouth because I need to concentrate and transform into my human form since getting out my dress with these wings is a near impossibility.
  9. I breathe slowly and deeply, letting go of my thoughts and my hold on my immortal form in the exhale. Everything seems to look so much fuzzier without the supernatural sight that I'm used to living with and, because I can sense less, there's always this feeling of emptiness whenever I switch back. Well, at least unzipping this dress won't be so much of an ordeal.
  10. I judged it too early. Reaching my right arm over my shoulder, I manage to nudge the zipper down a little until I'm able to grasp the annoyingly tiny pull with my left hand which I have stretched behind me. To my dismay, I can't get it down any farther, and it's not yet unzipped enough for me to just crawl out of either. I tug more insistently on the zipper, this time with my right hand, but the fabric bends with it, a problem I can't fix with only one extra hand.
  11. D***. I wish I didn't like this dress so much, else I'd just rip it and be done with it. I unlock the door and peek out. "Blake? Can you... help me? My zipper is stuck," I say, really wishing I had the power to melt into the ground right now and disappear. He sits up and smirks at me, "I've been waiting for you to ask me to undress you."
  12. "I didn't say that," I protest, scowling and making a mental note to write a complaint letter to the dress company against their ridiculously unrealistically tiny zippers. "Oh, okay," Blake says as he makes a move to lie down again. "Can you please just do me a favor and unzip me? This dress is not getting any more comfortable," I grouch. "Someone's quite eager to take their clothes off," he remarks, finally getting off of his lazy butt.
  13. "I'm sure you would want to if you were stuck in a hot, long, tight, twisted dress," I argue, turning around and lifting my hair to expose the offending zipper. "Too bad that's never going to happen," he says, tugging at the zipper. The cold lumps of his knuckles against my back sends shivers up and down my spine as he grabs the edge of the fabric of my dress. Instinctively, my back arches to avoid the coldness. "I can't do anything if you bend like that," he points out. "It's not my fault someone has freezing hands," I mutter as I reluctantly make myself stand straight, twitching as I fight the urge to spin around and smack him. I realize, though, that my hands are put in better use holding up the front of my dress.
  14. "Please, you like it," he replies almost automatically, and I can feel the jerk of the fabric as he finally unsticks the zipper. "Actually, I'd rather not feel like there's a slimy salamander crawling down my back," I retort, twisting away and sliding back into the bathroom, locking it securely before relaxing my arms off the front of my dress. "Thanks, you can go now," I shout through the door as I wriggle out of my dress. I hear a mumbling of a voice, but with my human hearing, I don't know what it said. Oh well, it's probably something flirty. Why do I put up with this again?
  15. When I come out of the bathroom, holding the crumpled mess that is my dress, I find Blake sitting on the bed, absent-mindedly playing with an unraveled thread of the comforter. His eyebrows are pinched together as if the thread is presenting an extraordinarily complex problem and causing him serious distress in the mental department. Almost as soon as I can fathom all of this, he looks up, his facial features smoothing into an expression of slight alertness and interest.
  16. "Why'd you stay?" I ask him. You'd think that as the leader of the biggest supernatural being network in the world and the focus of the largest supernatural fangirl group in the world, Blake would have a ton of more important things to do than babysit one of his allies. I scrunch my nose in distaste of the thought of him babysitting me. No way. He seems to stare at me a moment too long before he answers, "Unless you know where you are in the building, which, considering how drunk you were last night, you don't, you need me."
  17. I wince in my mind. Even he heard about me last night? What must I have been doing? "Unlike you no doubt assume, I DO have a sense of direction," I sniff, covering up my slight embarrassment. "So you can find the kitchen by yourself?" he asks with a knowing, teasing light in his eye. "The kitchen?" I ask, and just at that moment, my stomach growls. Oh, right. Breakfast. "... no..." I admit. He smirks and gets up, "Follow me."
  18. Cradling my dress in my arm, I follow Blake down the hallway and through a couple of turns that I forget almost as soon as we took them. We don't talk, and I don't try to start a conversation because I've got enough on my mind without adding the weight of maintaining a polite conversation with Blake. Besides, looking at the rare reflective expression on his face, it looks like he has a lot going on too. Maybe we could do with some stress relief? Then again, what would I do? Tell a knock-knock joke? I think not.
  19. The awkwardness ends when Blake suddenly pulls off to the side of the hallway, holding the glowing silver chain around his neck and frowning. He must be getting a telapathic message from someone on the team because that chain he has controls all communication ways between his team connections. Even I could contact him, if I saw a need to. Well, I could once I got my own necklace back, which had been confiscated at the party last night with everyone else's. I'd have to ask Blake where they were being kept once he's done talking.
  20. He looks up, and I freeze in my tracks. It's the first time he's looked me straight in the eyes today, and I finally see the silent tempest raging behind the translucent cover of his blue-gray eyes. Distraught and newly active steeliness color them, and its sheer prescence envelops him like an aura, extending out shadowy tentacles to tempt my own hidden fears and mix into my own distress. It senses the same in me, and I'm sure Blake can sense it too, as hard as I'm trying to not think about it. He can sense it just as surely as I can sense the storm within him, and the gray clouds of looming indecision spread over us both, joining us in one confused muddle of emotions.
  21. It's too much. I twist away, averting my eyes, but it's too late. Sorrow for unspoken losses and for untaken chances falls and, like gray feathers, settles upon the surface of my mind. For once, I can actually say that I understand Blake. I understand the ache of letting someone slip away; the burn of knowing that you make a mistake and closed a path forever; the way your mind is invaded by "what if"s and "if only"s; the acute sting that it never existed anyway, and then, that one moment when it seems you'll be able to make it up, you recieve a good-bye instead. Forever. Maybe. Hopefully. Sadly. And I know, however Blake may act, he had just as bad of a night at the party as I did.
  22. "I have to go. I trust you can find your way through the doors over there," Blake says in an undertone, his eyes studiously fixed on some point in the air slightly to the right of my face. It takes me a moment to find my voice, all the while, the distance between us, which had shrunken and brought us together before, was widening once again by the moment. Where we had been inches away from understanding each other when he had looked me in the eyes, we were now miles apart, separated by a sea of unvoiced words.
  23. "Has something important come up?" I finally ask, only slightly curious with what he would need to do so soon after the party. "In a way," he replies stiffly, uncharacteristically business professional, "You will be at the meeting tonight?" "Yes," I answer, and that's all that's there to be said. "I will see you there, then," he concludes and turns back, walking back the direction we came and leaving me to stand alone against the washing waves of memory that have surfaced yet again. In my mind's eye, I can see HIS eyes from last night, Jack's. His cobalt blue eyes, tender in sincerity, yet detached. He's moved on to someone else. So why haven't I?
  24. ~~ I remember... the first time we met. I had just finished making my deal with Blake, and he had went off to get me a team necklace, leaving me to wait in his meeting room. It was by pure chance that I happened to look out the window behind me at the exact time to see Jack walking by. I waved,, and within a minute, he came into the meeting room. I remember thinking that there was no way this guy could be only half-immortal. His luminous golden wings were so lofty, his stance so regal, his bright eyes so deep; I wouldn't have been surprised if he were some kind of immortal royalty. But he wasn't. "Hi. You must be the new member Blake is signing on? I'm his older cousin, Jack, if you have any questions, you can always ask me," he introduced himself, reaching out a hand. I shook his hand and introduced myself, "Yes, I'm Vixla... Um, I do actually have something I wanted to ask. I was wondering... what exactly do you spend most of your time doing for the team? I mean, I want to know what I have to expect to do." Jack laughed, the white of his teeth flashing in the sun, and I bit my lip, unsure what was so funny and if I had said something wrong. "You don't have to do anything here, Vi, do you mind if I call you that? Here, we're a family," Jack explained with a friendly grin. It was infectious. I felt the corners of my lips turning up, and I had smiled, at a complete stranger. As if his words were magic, a weight that I didn't even know I carried had lifted off of my heart. For once, I had felt comfortable. For once, I had felt sure. I had felt that I had made the right decision. ~~
  25. I tilt my head back to rest against the wall. What would have happened if I hadn't made that deal with Blake or if I had decided to leave before all this Spirit Medallion drama had reached its peak? My mind spins, and my heart aches. Irrationally, I wish Blake would turn around and realize it. As he walks away, he's dragging the divide between us farther, but I know he won't realize it because he's Blake. He can't feel the sore pounding of my heart. He can't read the expression on my face. He can't know that all I need right now is a hug. A hug and someone to tell me that everything will be all right, even if it's a lie. No, Blake wouldn't. He can't because it's just not him.
  26. ~ So how was it? Lots of Blake, right? I did promise it would be! Now originally this was supposed to be released earlier so that I could remind people about the contest I was holding, but now it's past the deadline again, so I should just do the judging now... *drumroll please*
  27. Grand Prize winner is.... FLIGHT! I loved the idea of connection between Cory and Curly XD plus, I can't believe you went up and searched for that evidence. Runner-ups are booknerd224 and ivoryleaf. Booknerd224, your outfit is too cute to pass up and ivoryleaf, that cracked me up - I love it, Curly will be like a little Lady Gaga XD Congratulations, you three! Guidelines for creating your characters will be posted on my website =)
  28. And last but not least, the ever-present question: Whose result would you like?

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