Untold Story (Villain series)

The One Who Can't Love

Chapter Twenty- The One Who Can’t Love

Crown the Empire is playing quietly in my room, Friday night. I lie on my bed, in my comfy pyjamas and enjoying the relaxation after a week of training. The events of the past week flutter in through my head, so much has happened in such a short amount of time. I’ve become so much stronger and I feel as if I’m more understanding of the world now.

“Oh catastrophe lead me to fade out the light… and uncage the night” I sing loudly, getting too involved in the music.

“Nice singing.” Blade surprises me; I hadn’t even noticed he had walked into my room and he smirks at me with his shoulder leaning against the door frame.

“Uh, yeah that’s really embarrassing…” I murmur, my face burning. I switch off the music, looking to Blade for an answer for disturbing my Friday night.

He sits on my bed next to me, his eyes studying me and not saying anything. I shift uncomfortably in my place; I wish you would stop doing that… I complain to myself.

I begin to tell him to go away when he finally speaks, “Do you want to know why I came here? To this mansion I mean.”

I shrug, “Isn’t it because Master Valentine is your Uncle?” Sometime this week I had started using the word ‘Master’ and now it comes naturally.

“It’s more than that.” Blade mumbles, his eyes drop and they cloud over mysteriously. This is a different side to Blade and for some reason he’s trusting me enough to show it to me.

Blade continues, “The Ikol family was cursed hundreds of years ago, every so often child will be born bearing this curse. I was born with it.” He stares off blankly across the room, lost in his thought. “Neither of my parents had it, the only person who I did know to have it was my great grandmother who died a few years ago.”

Blade goes silent again; I lean in closer, “What is the curse Blade?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper.

“My real name is Bradley, stupid right?” He laughs slightly but still without looking at me, suddenly his smile stops and he frowns. “I got the name because when I was 10 I murdered my parents with the decorative blade we had in our lounge room.”

My eyes widen slightly but I quickly mask my surprise, “Why?” I ask in a soft whisper, hoping to not upset him.

“I can’t feel love. My parents loved me so much but I couldn’t return that feeling. I can feel happiness and lust and admiration but I can’t love someone.” He looks frustrated, as if just saying the word makes him angry.

“I wanted to feel it so bad, I didn’t mean to go that far but once I received no feeling from killing my mother I just had to kill my father too.” Blade spat, disappointment for his past actions evident in his voice.

“Do you regret it?” I whisper.

“Of course I regret it!” Blade shouts, his anger turning to me and his eyes burning furiously.

Suddenly I understand Blade more. His flirty comments and arrogant attitude, he’s struggling with himself to find a feeling he’s been cursed not to have. I keep as calm as possible and place my hand on Blade’s. “Then that’s love. Don’t beat yourself up, Blade, you can’t help who you are. It may not be right there in front of you but in a way just regretting what you had done and enjoying the time you were together, that’s got to be some sort of love.” My sudden wisdom surprises me, since when do I know anything about love?

Blade calms down; my words seem to have really hit him. He turns to look at me again, he smiles the most genuinely I’ve ever seen. I smile in return when he leans in closer to me, putting his arms on my back and pressing his lips against mine. I have a natural instinct to push him away from me but I don’t. Noticing that I don’t pull away he leans in further, pushing me down so that I lay against the bed.

He tongue brushes against my lip, begging for an entrance. I reluctantly open my mouth to his, he moves his fingers up my pyjama top, his skin warm against mine. His hands touch somewhere along my side and I gasp slightly, the touch sending shivers down my spine. Blade moves his lips down to my neck and kisses me there. I exhale in pleasure and he returns his lips back to mine to kiss me further.

Then he stops, lifting himself off me and sitting at the end of the bed. I sit up as well; kissing Blade isn’t like kissing Duke. It was rougher and stronger, rather than sweet and gentle.

He stands up and walks to the door, turning his head to me, “Goodnight.” He smirks and leaves.