Morphine (Complete)

𝟑𝟗

(a/n: unedited for reasons my tired and overworked brain cannot explain. school has been absolutely up my fucking ass, it's almost overwhelming. and I'm a tryhard student so it doesn't go well. anywho, enjoy <3)

Chapter Thirty-Nine

What a mess you've made of me, Rannia.

Mykel forced himself into a stumble as he crossed the threshold into his work building. In one hand was a half-empty wine bottle, and in the other was a cigar, butt end still smoking with heat.

He never felt the effects for long. Unlike all people he'd met, if he got drunk, it lasted for maybe a minute; the effects of a blunt even shorter. He'd always thought it was something wrong with him. To be truthful, he hadn't been wrong; there was much wrong with him, and part of that could be attributed to self-proclaimed father dearest of his.

And if he could not feel the intoxication, he faked it. Walking slowly, with unsteady steps. His eyes hooded, lips parted slightly. Every now and then, he'd even allow himself the ability to rouse a burp, just for effect. He was quite the catastrophic mess to himself, and for that, he would give the world. 

There came power with self-destruction. Raw, petty power.

Mykel found his body stumbling into the wall, slouching his shoulder against the cold concrete. Coolness crept into his skin through the contact of wall to cotton, rousing a low chuckle from his bruised lips.

He could not hurt Rannia, that much was certain at this point. To hurt her was only to hurt himself--a pointless act, really. He could not hurt Garcia, for that bastard was still on the run; a coward to hide their face, a coward to not show as soon as danger presumed itself.

He'd heightened all the security at his bases, all of them. Warehouses and such. It costed money, but that was certainly one resource he lacked not.

Then, before his bleary slitted eyes, entered a soft feminine silhouette. Mykel lifted himself from the wall, coming to his full height. His vision cleared, no longer blurring itself for effect, and his eyes traced up the woman's body--at last, and only then, falling eyes on the stained cheeks and puffy eyes of Rannia. Something in him raged at the sight. It was a dark, sinister force, one all-consuming. Dust.

He moved forward quickly, finding his hand on her chin as he raised her to look at him clearly, face taut with anger as she blinked airily, almost unseeingly.

That was it--that was what he was feeling. Dust. A haunting shadow of misery, something tied to his soul and bloomed from blood. No, that was it: he wanted blood. Blood of whoever had made her cry.

"Who." Mykel grit out quietly, refusing to let his feelings get the better of him. Perhaps his father was right. He did have a choice; he could feel, or be numb. Numbness was nice, but this overwhelming power? This raw, surging current spiraling through his body? Lord, Mykel did not feel things often, but when he did, he was driven by nothing but his animalistic soul.

"You told Carter," she mumbled, blinking once more. He couldn't read what was behind those dark doe eyes, he couldn't tell what her soft, small body was telling him as it slowly leaned closer. He tensed as soft hands met his stomach when she leaned close, placing her ear to his chest. "Mm," she hummed, breathing out. The feeling of her warmth on his body had his heartbeat spiking. Gritting his teeth, Mykel moved to push her off him. But when two eyes peered up at him once more, no broken beast such as him could do such a thing. "Why?"

"I care for him, I do. He is my brother, if not entirely by blood. But he is a boy," Mykel gripped the bottom of her chin, palms circling her neck lightly, causing her breath to hitch and her lips to part. "And I do not let boys have what is mine."

"It hurt him, you telling him that. He didn't need to know."

"And you pretend to care?" Mykel questioned lazily. "Oh baby, that's bad of you. Bad, bad..." He trailed off, voice ending in a whisper. His scolding didn't elicit the same firey glaze in her eye; instead, she just stared at him. Emptily. She wanted something.

"Tell me what you want from me," he demanded next, voice rough. He gripped her arm and she stepped away from him for a moment. He was watched as her soft, beautiful face quickly switched into a slight glare.

"I want you to show him I'm yours," she requested.

"That's all?"

"Take me," she continued insistently, eyes set in determination.

"I don't think virginity can be taken twice--"

She rolled her eyes at him suddenly, snapping her eyes to the side as if his very presence pissed her off. "Dumbass," she mumbled under her breath. "I told you--you brat. I want to be your date at the gala."

"I have no intention of bringing you there," Mykel replied with a frown.

"I want to surprise you." Rannia pouted up at him, full lips pulled out and eyes glossy. Begging--it looked good on her.

"Surprise me?" Mykel questioned breathily. His mind filled with filthy images of her wearing a thin dress with extra thin clothing underneath. Flashing him on the dance floor, maybe. Sucking him off in the bathroom.

What he'd give to see those lips on him again.

At his obvious infatuation, Rannia scoffed and pressed herself up against him again. His hands immediately moved to her hips, and she hated how much she liked that feeling on her.

"Naughty boy, you won't have any idea." She giggled a little. "It's a surprise for a reason."

"And it'll be for me?" He questioned.

"Yes." And a few other select family members of yours.

He let out a slight grunt, casting his eyes to the side as he considered the prospects. While it was dangerous to bring a beautiful young woman like her to an event like the Amir's gala, fuck did he want to see her in a dress.

"My mother won't be happy to see my arm around you," he muttered.

Rannia's smile dropped. "I'll go with another man if you--"

"No." His eyes dropped to her once more, his hold tightening. "Fine, fuck's sake. I'll take you. Just be an obedient little thing, okay?"

She nodded enthusiastically, practically biting her cheek in pride at her success. This was the first step. She needed in, she needed trust. She needed the upper hand.

"Okay, Sir," she teased, leaning over to give his ass a little smack. Before he could catch her, she pranced off like a happy puppy, proud of herself for doing the right trick.

For everything it was worth, maybe Aziel was right. Mykel grimaced and shoved one hand into his pocket. The other, however, lingered near his chest where her face had rested not moments before. He cradled the space, trying to picture her warm body in his arms once more.

For him, loving someone would be a choice.

"You're lucky you're cute," he spoke aloud to the empty hallway, long gone was Rannia. Before he could wait and hear his demons respond, he turned and walked off.

It was time for another bottle.

(a/n: I might sound like an ass saying this, but my goal for this book is for it to reach 100K. We're like halfway there and I'm so hyped man. Maybe then I'll actually have the inspiration to completely rewrite the beginning because I absolutely despise it when every cell of my being :D anyways)