Cold-hearted love

1. Sage

There are better ways to spend my nigh than go to my older brother's seventeenth birthday party, but as always I had an obligation to attend.

I could've been working on my businesses, the legal and illegal part of it. But no, here I was on a Friday night dressed in cute purple dress that showed of all my curves and complemented my wavy long auburn hair to attend to a birthday party. 

How I hate parties.

I will never understand your hatred for birthday parties. And I exist in you mind, my dear said Elijah.

Fuck off, I replied half-heartedly.

As I descended down the stairs, I could practically feel all the boys eyes on me. Though my face stayed emotionless. I didn't smile towards anyone, and I didn't need to. I wasn't the kind of person who would plaster a fake-ass smile for other people's ego. I had enough power and they all knew it. 

But they only knew I was smart-as-fuck and a daughter of one of the richest men in the whole world. Even though those two things didn't even scratch the surface of what I could do, both physical and physiologically, they feared my father enough to stay away. But some less than others.

About an hour after the party had started I was listening to Pierre, one of the capos talk."...I had to make sure the make sure the monitor was accurate since that jackass wasn't where he was suppose to be—" his words came to an abrupt stop— I was thankful it did, I didn't know how much longer I'd want to her him without committing murder or suicide. The latter would work— As I turned around I saw the Archevez family enter.
If I have to hear him say one more word... Elijah's voice trailed off as he disappeared into my mind.

Pierre followed my gaze and then put his hand on my lower back. I internally flinch but kept my face nuetral. I felt the monster awaken with furry. I itched to let my shadow creatures devour him. I was about to say and do something— probably on the lines of "I will burn you hand off if you don't remove it this instant"— but he beat me to it, "remove your hand or it'll no longer be in contact with the rest of you". Pierre removed his hand immediatly and all but ran away.

I turned to face Everett Archevez— the guy who has a IQ of 248[the only one to match my own], one of the smartest men on the planet, the owner of a multi-billion dollar company at age of seventeen, soon to be the mafia don, someone who could be considered my best friend-- and the only person to match me. Rhett was a giant, towering over everyone in the room. His physcal apperence was perfect, white blond hair in a perfect taper hair cut style, with his emerald green eyes, chiseled chin, and perfect nose you'd think he was some kind of angel—or a unholy hot devil—on earth just by looking at him. But if you'd look further it'd be easy to tell he's anything but an angel. Everything about the way he looked was annoyingly perfect.

As the saying goes "Don't judge a book by it's cover". He looked atrractive but he wasn't a good person in any way. The irony wasn't lost on me either. I was being a hypocrite, but I didn't give a fuck. I'm not good either. So what.

His emerald green eyes looked my from head to toe, albeit discret. His eyes peirced straight to my soul but I acted unfazed and stared right back with an eye brow raised. We didn't say anything in here, just a nod in greeting.

"I could have handeld that, you know", I said with sharpened calmness to my voice. His eyes widened slightly but was otherwise indifferent as me.

"I do know", even his voice was perfect. Deep, silky and smooth. Our parents were "friends"-- forced aquentences, really-- we grew up together. Except he always looked the same age to me. No one else saw it. I chose to ignore it; I didn't need anyone else's shit on my plate. But as we grew older, the both of us somehow got closer.

And although we saw each other often, neither of us say more than a sentence in front of others in social gatherings.

Without another word I gave a single nod as a goodbye and left.

I could feel Elijah looking through my eyes. As a child I used to be scared of the voice in my mind. His deep silky smooth, perfect voice that resembled Everett's' voice. In a child's mind it would scare most. But it was also soothing at times; his voice was perfect and sounded so familiar. Over the years I stopped fearing him— I couldn't even imagine being afraid of him now. He was a monster, we both were. Are.

But he was the monster that was always on my side, I learned, even when everyone else had there doubts he was there. I wouldn't have survived being in a asylum for a year with my sanity the same as it was before without him— actually my sanity wasn't the same as before but it doesn't matter much; it has always been fucked up. He wasn't on my side because we stuck together, no, apparently— to my great displeasure— he could think what he wanted freely. I couldn't properly control the fire I produced, only with his help could I have even the slightest control. The monster had his own abilities. He always told me I could do more, had more abilities on my own. He showed me control, power and all the things I could do. We were stronger together.

The monster didn't sleep. Or maybe he did, I wasn't sure. When I did though we shared my dreams, memories sometimes, other times he left my sleep undisturbed and left me to wander on my own. Although he didn't sleep when I was awake— that I was sure of. I think he couldn't— Elijah wasn't always present. At times he was. . .dormant, stalking the dark corners of our shared mind that I couldn't reach. Or perhaps it was his own mind.

My relationship with him was strange. We weren't friends but so much more. He was as stuck with me as I him. We were loyal to each other— neither of us had much of a choice, really in that department. I've always been indifferent about. . .almost everything but Elijah was one things I couldn't be indifferent about. We were a lot of thing, Elijah and I.

I grabbed a bottle of tequila then left without a single 'happy birthday to my brother', but I didn't let my mind drift to that. I was cold to him undeservingly because I knew how much it would hurt him.

He deserves it, Lyla. You were sent to a insane asylum that THEY put you to and didn't even get so much as a 'welcome home', while he got a fucking party for existing— sorry, for being BORN, Elijah said in a thick accent.

We both know it wasn't my brother's fault he didn't know. Well actually it is. But I don't even care about it now, why say it?, I asked already knowing the answer.

Because my dear, you do care and you know how I crave tormenting you, He said and by then I just ignored him.

Neither did I let it drift to how I checked Everett out. . .or how he checked me out—we've been doing that a lot lately. It made sense objectively; we were both attractive so we are attracted to each other. I didn't care much about Jackson's boundaries about his best friend-- Ev was also Jacks' best friend; they were the same age-- knowing he couldn't stop me even if he wanted but if something were to happen between us it wouldn't end well, neither of us could love— that much I knew. I didn't do anything that wouldn't benefit me and Everett would never benefit me in anyway as a significant other. I wasn't the most caring person—

I heard Elijah snort at that.

But unesserily hurting Jacks was—probably— where I drew the line. 

Plus there are plenty of other guy's here I could fuck. Why not enjoy.

"Hey, Hi! I'm here at her brother's part, Sage Levine how do you feel after coming back to your luxurious home after a trip abroad?" a reporter or blogger asked.

I walked away, a Levine never entertains the people unless there's something in it for us.