present tense forever tense

Blake Lockhart; I miss it all, from the love to the lightning. And the lack of it snaps me in two.

[cordeliadams-blog]

BAD BLOOD → CORLAKE

TAGGING → Blake Lockhart, Cordelia Adams TIME FRAME → Midnight, 20th May, 2014. LOCATION → His apartment wooooo NOTES → What do an excessive intake of alcohol, long boiling bad blood, a hot-headed plan and a tight black dress make of a girl? A disaster.

[cordeliadams-blog]

At his mention of a murder-to-be, she laughed. The kind of laugh that echoed around the room like air, bouncing everywhere but down, that lit up her face and spread soft creases over her skin. She would be the last to say she’d missed it, his sense of humour, despite it being nearly as odd as hers. She’d missed the silly jokes that kept them up at three, wide awake with aching tummies. Even the inappropriate texts they shared as something so basic, maybe that’s why she was intrigued by that stranger before she found out it’s him. Maybe she just missed hearing this sort of laughter from herself, and there hadn’t been someone else that brought it out better than him. Though, it would be nonsense, and pathetically naive of her to assume happiness was the only thing he could induce on her. People capable of bringing out the best in you is also capable of bringing the worst. People who make you the happiest can drop your heart the next. There’s no guarantee in anything.

Upon his next suggestion, she scrunched her nose, and with eyes narrowed, she examined him in an almost solemn look over her features. “Definitely long.” She nodded, “Though maybe not as much as you think.” She added soon enough, flashing a frivolous wink as she did. There’s no harm in a bit of mind fucking. Okay, maybe there was, but the fun sure outweighed it, and she couldn’t care less about whether it messed with his head. After all, she had certain rights in doing so considering how long the ghost of him had haunted her own mind. And honestly, she hardly had any idea what she wanted at this point now. Revenge, still, she could feel her skin whispered stealthily, and her mind? Too tired to think of anything, with alcohol still buzzing in the background, and her heart? It had never had a clue about what she wanted, especially regarding him.

His harsh words weren’t expected, and they sent her heart hammering with unease. Was that it? Could he still read her, like he used to? She was feeling vulnerable again, like days ago at her party with him. Exposed, fragile. A part of her wanted to leave now, or just tell him she was hardly drunk enough for the direction this conversation was stirring towards, and she truly wasn’t. But she did want to know, and she didn’t like leaving without an answer, as she’d always disliked doing things for nothing. “What if I tell you that’s exactly what I want to know?” She confessed, after a moment of silence. She wondered how she looked to him now, did she look weak? She felt weak. ” — Was it worth losing me for?”

[blake-lockhart]

Laughter. Laughter is such a simple thing; a guttural sound that on principle, shouldn't sound beautiful and mellifluous yet it does anyway. Uncontrolled laughter, the kind that overtakes you and brightens your features is the best kind, and it's even better coming from a loved one. Blake missed experiencing Cordelia's laughter. He hadn't realised quite how much he missed it's melody until that moment. Witnessing her laughter, and her illuminated countenance that went hand-in-hand with it, was unlike anything Blake had viewed before. In his absence, he tried to search for someone, something, that matched the ambience; that matched the feeling he undoubtably got every single time she laughed; but he had been unsuccessful. No one, or nothing compared. It made him wish that he could open the lid of a jar and enclose her laughter inside for fear of it leaving once more. 

How could he answer a question that had so many conflicting answers? He'd made his name in London. Moving enabled him to be recognised, to be desired by companies, to be lusted over by cameras. Taking the job allowed him to afford to move into an apartment worthy of being called home. But moving also caused him to lose the one person who truly mattered in his life, the one person who he swore he'd never leave. The one person who knew every vein in his body by heart. Was is worth it? Was money, was success worth shattering a love once as strong as stone? Was it worth turning stone into glass? 

Blake reached his hand forward, softly, barely brushing against Cordela's skin as he almost unknowingly moved a fallen blonde lock from her forehead, before drawing back as if suddenly remembering that she was now a remaining shard. Apologetic eyes found hers, silently begging for her not to mention his affectionate faux pas. He cleared his throat, "I thought it was, at times. Now, I'm not so sure."

[cordeliadams-blog]

BAD BLOOD → CORLAKE

[blake-lockhart]

TAGGING → Blake Lockhart, Cordelia Adams TIME FRAME → Midnight, 20th May, 2014. LOCATION → His apartment wooooo NOTES → What do an excessive intake of alcohol, long boiling bad blood, a hot-headed plan and a tight black dress make of a girl? A disaster.

As if expecting to receive a glare from the blonde next to him, Blake turned to her with an eyebrow raised and a circumspect expression, and was pleasantly surprised to discover a seemingly facetious Cordelia awaiting his response. “Well, there's two possibilities -” he began, his cautious demeanour dissolving into one of quizzicality. “One, you want to put my head on a stick outside your apartment as a warning to any men who dare cross your path. Two, you want my irresistibly charming self. Number two is, admittedly, a long shot, but I thought I'd throw it in there, just in case.”

It was natural that Cordelia had questions; she rightfully deserved the answers, but he was unsure if he could give them; at least, not accurately. The truth is, he did have fun in London, it had been an opportunity most definitely worth experiencing, and he hadn't spent each day of his time there engrossed in heartache and for that, he felt slightly guilty. He wondered if maybe, she deserved someone who would spend seven hundred and thirty days mourning the loss of a love as great as theirs.  If that was the case, then perhaps he deserved it too, and it seemed as though Cordelia held no guilt in her splintered heart for not being in a perpetual state of lamentation.

There are many things in this world that she deserved, he deserved, they deserved but that didn't mean they'd necessarily receive it and that seemed to partly nudge the guilt out of his tireless mind. 

But that didn't mean he wanted to talk to Cordelia about his choice to go to the country that would inevitably tear them apart. "I don't know what your aim is, Cord - maybe you just want to know if it was worth it, worth leaving - is that what you want? Is that why you're here?" His words came out far harsher than he intended, though they were not laced with anger. In fact, he was surprisingly calm, considering the circumstances.

[cordeliadams-blog]

BAD BLOOD → CORLAKE

[blake-lockhart]

TAGGING → Blake Lockhart, Cordelia Adams TIME FRAME → Midnight, 20th May, 2014. LOCATION → His apartment wooooo NOTES → What do an excessive intake of alcohol, long boiling bad blood, a hot-headed plan and a tight black dress make of a girl? A disaster.

"Oh, she's grand - she's messing up her life by falling in love with a guy who doesn't give two shits about her, but she hasn't come to that realisation yet, so - she's grand." It wasn't the first time his little sister had gotten herself in this particular predicament; as soon as she hit her late teens, she was suddenly drawn to men who Blake often described as 'sleazeballs.' It was the same situation every time: she'd fall in love, Blake would warn her, she'd tell him that he was wrong, her boyfriend would sleep with someone else, she'd fall crying into her big brother's arms before seeking comfort in yet another 'sleazeball' male. It was rather tiring, and Blake hoped that it was just a long term phase and that she'd grow out of it soon enough. He turned his head ever-so slightly, just enough to see Cordelia out of the corner of his eye, a barely-there doleful smile on his lips. "She misses you, you know. It took months for her to fully forgive me for 'making her lose the only sister she'd ever had'" 

Upon hearing her next words, Blake turned his head fully to face her, one eyebrow raised. "Maybe you thought you did, but you haven't. If you'd erased me fully, you wouldn't be sitting on my couch right now" he pointed out, protesting her protest. His shoulders raised in an apologetic shrug, and he turned away once more; his feet lifting onto the coffee table as he allowed himself to relax a little in her presence. He understood her bitterness; God, he did; but he wished she'd try to see the situation from his point of view. It was the only way that he could think of to diminish some of her acidity.

"No, that thought never crossed my mind. I meant what I said." Though he'd tried over the past two years to burn Cordelia Adams' name from his heart, to burn their former love into ashes so he could think of her as only an old friend in order for him to be able to move on, his attempts had been unsuccessful and now, he'd accepted the fact that perhaps, her name was engraved rather than written. It was non-erasable.  His jaw clenched upon hearing the name of his former city of residence, and feeling her gaze bore into him, he turned, his eyes lowered. A heavy sigh passed through his lips, his head shook slowly from side to side; once, twice; and then, after a moment of hesitation, his gaze caught hers; his eyes depicting more sorrow than the frown on his lips. "Don't, Cordelia." 

[cordeliadams-blog]

BAD BLOOD → CORLAKE

[blake-lockhart]

TAGGING → Blake Lockhart, Cordelia Adams TIME FRAME → Midnight, 20th May, 2014. LOCATION → His apartment wooooo NOTES → What do an excessive intake of alcohol, long boiling bad blood, a hot-headed plan and a tight black dress make of a girl? A disaster. 

"Anna." He responded, an eye-roll accompanying his words. "She stormed in here and febreezed everything. She was all, 'bro, you can't live like this. it smells like three-day old take out in here.' But I like the scent of expired curry. It makes me feel manly, and free.  I didn't want my couch to smell like fucking lavender."  

As he witnessed Cordelia re-discovering the memories of their past, Blake was yet again engulfed by the nostalgic, remorseful sea that seemed to crash over his frame whenever Cordelia appeared in his thoughts, and more recently, in his life. There she was, and here he was, the two of them mere metres apart; yet neither made the move to replace the aqueous engulfment with an embrace. Though they had read each other's personal encyclopaedia over and over, though they had memorised the words and ran their fingers down it's creased spine many a times, it felt as though suddenly, there were hundreds of new, unread pages that were written in a language neither of them understood, and were perhaps unable to learn. Pages that held the secret of how to break the distance between them; smash the space into smithereens, erase the lonesome memories of the past two years to enable them to become one once again.

They were just out of reach, and it made him wonder if he'd ever resurface.

The unfamiliarity of not knowing what to do around her, what was allowed and what was not, once again tugged at the fraying strings that held his weakened heart together; the heart that still whispered her name upon every beat. Now, he realised, his thoughts over the past few days had been foolish. He had expected Cordelia to run through his doors, tell him that it'd always been him, that it was still him, that she understood that he wasn't trying to hurt her, that it was a once in a lifetime opportunity he had to take in order to gain the possibility of a stable future. He'd expected it to all return to the way it was in a blink of an eye.

And even though he knew it was foolish, he still believed they had a chance. Two years ago, Blake knew that leaving would ultimately hurt Cordelia, yet he still left. It was selfish of him. But on the other hand, it was selfish of Cordelia to expect him to drop everything to stay with her, and that if he stayed, it would ultimately hurt him as he'd be missing out on an opportunity that would have opened up countless doors. Didn't that make them as bad as each other? And if they were equally as selfish, doesn't that mean that she should be able to forgive, as she was in the wrong also?

A door may have been shut in order to open new ones, but that door - that wonderful door that held a forever tense love - couldn't be shut forever. The lock would eventually slide, even if it was awkward and stiff at present.

Blake almost opted to sit on the coffee table rather than the couch, but in a moment of courage, he situated himself next to the blonde; though he couldn't bring himself to draw his gaze to hers and instead, chose to stare at the blank screen of his television. "There are many people who I have erased from my life and I'm sure there will be many more in the future, but you will never be one of them; even if you want to be."  

[cordeliadams-blog]

BAD BLOOD → CORLAKE

TAGGING → Blake Lockhart, Cordelia Adams TIME FRAME → Midnight, 20th May, 2014. LOCATION → His apartment wooooo NOTES → What do an excessive intake of alcohol, long boiling bad blood, a hot-headed plan and a tight black dress make of a girl? A disaster. 

[blake-lockhart]

"Curiosity killed the cat." Blake replied, a jovial, witty air to his tone. "There’s not much to see. It’s a New York apartment, after all." He had moved into his current residence a few months prior. The rent was, as to be expected, extortionate; Manhattan accommodation wasn’t too friendly on the pocket, but his pay check was higher than ever, so he needn’t have to worry. The apartment was of mediocre size; far from the small size of his previous New York home, yet it wasn’t considered spacious. Blake considered it large enough for his needs; one bedroom, one bathroom, a living area and a kitchen. What more could a man living singly need?

Someone to share it with, perhaps. 

"But as you wish, Adams." The living room was situated to the right of where they were currently standing; a room of ample size, tastefully decorated, and spotlessly clean. (x) All credit for the latter belonged to his nineteen year old sister, Anna, who had arrived on his doorstep two days before, after someone, somewhere; Blake had no idea who; told her that they’d spotted Blake and Cordelia at a party. She’d been determined that this meant they would ‘end up sucking face in here’ and had then taken it upon herself to clear the empty beer cans from the coffee table and plump up the couch cushions before exiting with a cheery, far too loud yell of ‘use protection, bro. i’m not ready to be an aunt’ that he swore his elderly neighbour Maureen could have heard, even without her hearing aid.

Blake cleared his throat, stepped over the threshold into the room and once again, ran his fingers through his hair. “This is probably my favourite room, honestly. You know how I like to spend my sober nights-” He motioned towards the television with a flick of his wrist, a small half-smile appearing on his lips. “-I’m still trying to keep up with those darn Kardashians.” Reality shows aimed at a primarily female, teenage demographic had always been his guilty pleasure. On the evenings that he stayed home, you could often hear him shouting comments such as 'Not again, Kim' or 'Don't give that toddler the tiara' or 'If you don't listen to Tyra, you'll never make it to the catwalk!' at the screen. What a thrilling life he leads. 

[cordeliadams-blog]

BAD BLOOD → CORLAKE

[blake-lockhart]

TAGGING → Blake Lockhart, Cordelia Adams TIME FRAME → Midnight, 20th May, 2014. LOCATION → His apartment wooooo NOTES → What do an excessive intake of alcohol, long boiling bad blood, a hot-headed plan and a tight black dress make of a girl? A disaster. 

It was a strange sensation, feeling awkward around Cordelia. Foreign, almost. From a tender age, Blake had always felt at his most comfortable when he was within a few feet of the blonde. Even when they were beginning to dabble into a relationship, they were free of any awkwardness that seemed to generally be linked to the early courting period. They knew what should be said, whether it was appropriate or not, and if it was the latter, they'd say it anyway. Yet now, here he was, here she was, the distance between them unbearable. The words he wished to say were swallowed, the strand of blonde hair he wished to tuck behind her ear remained untouched. He felt as if he was constantly walking on thin ice, and that at any moment, the ice could break and he'd be the only one to fall through. 

It was moments like these that made him regret ever leaving in the first place. 

"I wasn't waiting. I was on the phone, and I just so happened to be walking past the door when you knocked." He mimicked her movement, marginally closing the gap between them. "But by the looks of that particular smile, you wanted me to be waiting. Too bad." 

After a moment of silence, his gaze found hers. It was an odd sensation,  after years of only viewing the shade of her eyes in old photographs. They never quite captured the true essence of them. It was only when you stood in front of her that you could truly view their beauty; the way the hazel shades danced when the light caught her orbs, the way, sometimes, if you looked closely enough, you could see unexpected flecks of green. They were mesmerising, as was she. And he used to be able to read both her and her eyes like a book. Now? Not so much.

Blake held onto hope that she couldn't have changed that much over the years. He didn't want to think about the possibility of her being more of a stranger than a loved one. She'd matured, surely, and perhaps in some respects, she had moved on. But as sure as the earth was round, she was standing in front of him and that meant something; it had to. And the same theory glued to the kiss they had shared a few days prior. 

The thought put a smile onto his lips; a smile that only grew as a sense of familiarity hit him as he remembered her eyes trailing over his home. He gestured behind him with a nod of the head. "Go ahead - I know it's killing you to be standing here instead of sleuthing around my apartment."

[cordeliadams-blog]

BAD BLOOD → CORLAKE

[blake-lockhart]

TAGGING → Blake Lockhart, Cordelia Adams TIME FRAME → Midnight, 20th May, 2014. LOCATION → His apartment wooooo NOTES → What do an excessive intake of alcohol, long boiling bad blood, a hot-headed plan and a tight black dress make of a girl? A disaster. 

The hours that had passed since leaving Cordelia's party had been lengthy and disconcerting; filled with questions of 'will she? won't she?' The answer remained uncertain. Would she wake up intoxicated by regret? Would she awake to feelings of disgust? Or would she come to the realisation that they belonged together, that his departure wasn't to purposely harm her heart and that she forgave him for leaving in the first place because she knew he had needed the career opportunity?  

Would she knock upon his door? After three days, it seemed unlikely but he still held onto hope. 

As he spoke, or, more accurately, listened, to his father on the phone, who was currently ranting about what this colleague did, and what that colleague didn't, he paced the hardwood floors of his apartment, pausing briefly to glance at the frames nailed to the wall behind the slate-grey couch in his living room. A friend had mocked it his 'sappy, nostalgia wall' due to the photographs holding blissful memories of his past; a picture of his sister sitting atop of Santa's knee, a picture of himself holding his first beer, a cheesy family photo of the Lockhart clan dressed in matching sweaters. There were several photographs of him and Cordelia through the years, though none of them were particularly couple-y; a group photo at a party, the two of them on a garden swing set at the age of seven or eight, a prom picture with the dates they arrived with.  When he put the photographs in the frames, he'd contemplated putting the photo taken at the end of prom; the two of them with their arms wrapped around each other, their smiles shining bright, their dates long gone; but he'd figured that the only reaction it would receive would be his friends telling him to 'move the fuck on, man' and that it's 'creepy and pathetic to cling onto hope.' But he refused to erase all memories of Cordelia. He couldn't do it, so 'friendly' photographs stayed without question. 

Just as he was making his fifth trip around the entirety of his apartment, occasionally making general sounds of agreement to show his father that he was still on the line, he heard the much awaited knock on the door, and after cutting his father off mid sentence and hurriedly saying that he had to go, he almost immediately answered it; the thought about it coming across as 'desperate' not so much as crossing his mind. He greeted Cordelia with the familiar smile that he only reserved for her, though today, it was laced with gratefulness rather than cheer.

"I tend to have that effect on people." He wisecracked, hoping that a joke would erase some of the uncertainty in her eyes. He stepped aside to allow room for her to enter, shutting it behind her with a bang that couldn't be avoided nor quietened; a side effect of heavy oak doors. His gaze found hers, and was laced with the same timidity he'd felt the previous night.

"Uh, how was the rest of the party?" he asked, not quite knowing what else was acceptable to say in a situation such as this. His head pounded, his heart mimicked it, and he wanted nothing more than to reach out and hold her close, but instead he remained a considerable distance away from the blonde, his fingers running nervously, absentmindedly through his hair. 

[blake-lockhart]

WE MEET AGAIN → CORLAKE

[blake-lockhart]

TAGGING → Blake Lockhart, Cordelia Adams, a group of party people, holla.

TIME FRAME → 7pm onwards, 17th May, 2014.

LOCATION → Some bar in New York idk

NOTES → Blake finally finds out who his mystery girl really is, and perhaps she’s the one he’s been wishing for all along?

Her expression was one that was unknown to him, and Blake wondered if it was one that she had created during his departure; if it was a look that she gave her boyfriend. Her tone caused his breath to hitch, his lids to temporarily flutter shut, and he had to regain his composure so as not to seem too eager. She knew the effect she had on him; she knew the effect of her tone, of her touch, of her lips. Though Blake would usually see these actions as a good sign, he couldn't help but think about the amount of alcohol she had most likely consumed that evening; how only minutes ago, she was acting erratic. He opened his eyes, his gaze locking with hers, his hand raising to her cheek. His fingers brushed lightly against her still damp skin, and his lips greeted hers once more for only a second, before he pulled back with a shake of his head. "I can't do this to you." He stated, his voice lowered as he heard the laughter of women outside the bathroom door. "You know what I want; you, us. But you have a boyfriend, not to mention the fact that you're tipsy and, let's be honest, pretty emotional and sensitive. I don't want to feel like I'm taking advantage of you, and I don't want you to regret anything. I'll text you my address, and if you're still feeling..whatever it is you're feeling right now..knock on the door when you're sober, and you're thinking straight." He tucked a loose strand of hair behind Cordelia's ear, then stepped away from her, moving his hand from her cheek, and then her waist with a sigh; his eyes still locked with hers. 

[blake-lockhart]

WE MEET AGAIN → CORLAKE

[blake-lockhart]

TAGGING → Blake Lockhart, Cordelia Adams, a group of party people, holla.

TIME FRAME → 7pm onwards, 17th May, 2014.

LOCATION → Some bar in New York idk

NOTES → Blake finally finds out who his mystery girl really is, and perhaps she’s the one he’s been wishing for all along?

In the moments of silence that followed his question, Blake guessed how the evening would turn out. He suspected that Cordelia's answer would be a scoff, a raised brow, a 'did you really have to ask?' or a remark along those lines. He'd shake his head dolefully, mutter an apology that most likely meant as much to her as the kleenex she'd throw in the trashcan after wiping her tears away.

Once out of the bathroom, he'd weave his way through the crowd of partygoers who wondered where the birthday girl had disappeared to. He'd avoid the spiteful glare of one of Cordelia's many friends who knew that he was the cause of her heartbreak and that he didn't deserve to ask for her forgiveness.

He'd go to his apartment, come to the realisation that it was far too lonely and of a greater size than needed for one, and then he'd crack open a beer or three in a pitiful attempt to forget.

He was truly, undoubtedly convinced that that would be the case.

He didn't expect her to step towards him, he didn't expect there to be nothing but electricity in the space between them, he didn't expect that her lips would greet his in such a hauntingly familiar way that it would both bewilder and amaze him.

His right arm, on impulse, slid around her waist, pulling her towards him, closing the gap between their bodies; his actions laced with uncertainty, timidity for fear of her rejecting him as if his lips were venomous.

After a moment of pure, blissful happiness he began to wonder if Cordelia had an ulterior motive to her kiss. Though her reasons behind it may have been as simple as her searching for a moment of clarity, he couldn't help but wonder if she was looking to give him a taste of his own medicine; to love him and leave him, as they say. To give him hope.

He broke his lips away from Cordelia's, his forehead resting on hers, the rise-and-fall of his chest quicker in pace than before their lips met. His tone was hushed, pained. “What do you want from me, Cord?”

[blake-lockhart]

WE MEET AGAIN → CORLAKE

[blake-lockhart]

TAGGING → Blake Lockhart, Cordelia Adams, a group of party people, holla.

TIME FRAME → 7pm onwards, 17th May, 2014.

LOCATION → Some bar in New York idk

NOTES → Blake finally finds out who his mystery girl really is, and perhaps she’s the one he’s been wishing for all along?

Knowing that he and his words were the reasons for her tears, the ones that she was so desperately trying to hide from him, only heightened his feelings of guilt. He couldn't help but feel like his declaration didn't serve the purpose he was hoping, that instead of making her feel better, it's heaviness crushed her instead. Perhaps that was partly due to a mixture of bad timing and the aftershock of his sudden reappearance in her life, but those possibilities did nothing to console his conscience, or to console Cordelia. “Shit – don't...”

He wanted to reach out, wipe her tears away, but instead he stumbled backwards, knowing that he was the cause and that his attempts at comforting her would do nothing but worsen her emotions.

Back when their feelings toward each other were mutual, before he'd broken her heart and left her to deal with the consequences alone, he would have known exactly what to do if she had begun to cry. He would have stepped towards her, rather than step away. He would have wrapped his arms around her, rather than keep his arms by his side. He would have wiped away her tears, rather than glance helplessly at them, wishing he could make them halt in their tracks as they attempted to roll down her cheeks. He would have kissed her, cracked a joke, brushed her hair away from her face, told her to pull herself together so he could kiss her without feeling like he was kissing a sad, wet puppy. She would have let out a cracked laugh against her will, she would have looked up at him with a smile. All would have been forgiven, all would have been forgotten.

But their feelings toward each other weren't mutual, her heart was still broken. All was not forgiven, all was not forgotten.

And the silence between them was more painful than anything as it seemed to be yet another confirmation of how much had changed between them, which made his heart ache in his chest and his fingers want to reach out and entwine with hers.

It felt as though there were hundreds of metres between them rather than the two there actually were. They say that silence is louder than anything, and until that moment, Blake hadn't realised just how true that quotation really was. Speaking would pierce the air, and perhaps would do more harm than good, but nevertheless he opened his mouth in an attempt to mutter an utterance and after the fourth attempt, his vocal chords decided to function to their ability.

“Do you want me to leave?”

He wished that he could have come up with a better solution to their situation, he wished that there was a better solution to their situation, but alas, leaving seemed to be the only option, even if it meant breaking his own heart to set hers free. 

[blake-lockhart]

WE MEET AGAIN → CORLAKE

[blake-lockhart]

TAGGING → Blake Lockhart, Cordelia Adams, a group of party people, holla.

TIME FRAME → 7pm onwards, 17th May, 2014.

LOCATION → Some bar in New York idk

NOTES → Blake finally finds out who his mystery girl really is, and perhaps she’s the one he’s been wishing for all along?

He'd half expected Cordelia to push him out of the door as soon as their embrace ended; kick him to the curb before he could say goodbye, like he was an empty can on the sidewalk. But God, words couldn't express his gratitude for being able to stay with her for even a moment more. He wanted to wrap his arms around her again, he wanted to hold her close, inhale her scent for as long as possible for fear of it being soon forgotten; he wanted to feel like he was truly home. He'd used to often ponder whether or not home could be a person, not a place, and being with Cordelia, near Cordelia, had confirmed it. She was his home, and home was where he belonged, but before he could move back in, he'd been asked to pack the remainder of his luggage and move back out. And the pain it caused felt like he was being stabbed, and figuring that he deserved it didn't do anything to help it subside.

As he looked at his former home, who's bricks were seemingly about to crumble down around her, his heart wrenched once more. But not due to the fact that he was about to say farewell, no; he'd realised that he'd changed her. He'd managed to break her heart, her trust, and her smile in one go, and that, perhaps, was the most painful revelation of all. And he couldn't feel more guilty if he tried.

Blake kept a hand on each of her upper-arms, not wanting to back away from her just yet, not wanting to leave her to fend for herself as she very obviously battled her emotions. It wasn't much, but the way in which he brushed the pad of his thumb against her skin in a horizontal line; back, forth, back, forth; knowing that it had always comforted her before, showed that he truly meant it when he said that he cared, loved. His facial expression was downcast, yet depicted concern and affection for the blonde, as he watched her speak; aching for more contact and to take the away the pain that he'd caused.

“Why do I love you?” He repeated, more to himself than to Cordelia. “Because you understand me, we understand each other. Always have, always will, whether you like it or not. And because you're the most...wonderful, beautiful, crazy ass person I've ever met. Not as wonderful, beautiful, and as crazy ass as me, but you know, you come a close second.” He chuckled slightly; a cracked, doleful chuckle, but a chuckle all the same. His face was painted over with sincerity a moment later, his eyes dead on Cordelia's, wishing that he could look into them, search them, forever. “How do I know? Looking at you makes me feel like my heart is being stamped on, and serenaded at the same time.” 

[blake-lockhart]

WE MEET AGAIN → CORLAKE

[blake-lockhart]

TAGGING → Blake Lockhart, Cordelia Adams, a group of party people, holla.

TIME FRAME → 7pm onwards, 17th May, 2014.

LOCATION → Some bar in New York idk

NOTES → Blake finally finds out who his mystery girl really is, and perhaps she’s the one he’s been wishing for all along?

He knew that he shouldn't have admitted his feelings, he knew that it was unfair to her; she didn't feel the same way, he'd put her in an awkward position. He could always blame it on the heat of the moment; the raised voices and the shock of seeing her after three years of being apart combined had erupted all of the old feelings they had shared from the pit of his cracked heart. It was a possibility that his mind was playing cruel tricks on him. Sure, that had to be it. At least it beat the alternative; her being the one for him, and her 'one' being someone else. 

But as he held her in his arms, the reality of it all hit him. His mind wasn't the one being sadistic; it was his heart, and God, his heart was beating for hers. And it completely, utterly, totally sucked. Why couldn't his feelings have disappeared too? Why couldn't they have been left behind in London, why couldn't he have just took the leap of faith required to move the fuck on?

He exhaled, his breath shaky as he tried to gain the strength to let her go, both literally, and emotionally. He, once again, didn't want to stop hugging her, and he most definitely didn't want to say goodbye, for good. But the dreaded time had to come at some point, and he didn't want to make it any more awkward than it already was by gripping onto her for dear life. He braced himself, before leaning back, and holding her at arms length; his eyes searching hers. Was he seeing things or were eyes...glistening? And not in a delighted way, either. It looked almost as if she was holding back tears. "I didn't mean to ruin your birthday. You know that, right?" 

[blake-lockhart]

WE MEET AGAIN → CORLAKE

[blake-lockhart]

TAGGING → Blake Lockhart, Cordelia Adams, a group of party people, holla.

TIME FRAME → 7pm onwards, 17th May, 2014.

LOCATION → Some bar in New York idk

NOTES → Blake finally finds out who his mystery girl really is, and perhaps she’s the one he’s been wishing for all along?

"I'm not...I don't expect you to do anything." The fact that he now knew the extent of pain he'd caused her, how much he'd broken her heart, didn't do anything to lighten his mood. He wasn't a malicious man, he hadn't wanted to hurt her, he hadn't wanted to mutilate her feelings towards love, and men in general. Above everything, he had wanted her to be happy, he still did. And if happy equaled a life without him, then he'd be willing to go, even if that meant him getting even more heartbroken than he already was in the process. 

"I do love you, I don't think that's going to change. I...it's always been you. That being said...I can accept that you don't feel the same way." He visibly gulped, as if trying to swallow her words as he tried to come to terms with truly letting her go; for real, this time.  "I am sorry. I hope you believe that one day, and I hope you won't mind me doing this." Before she could query on what 'this' was, he walked towards her once more, enveloping her in his arms in a tender, but firm embrace in an attempt to somehow comfort her, though he had no idea if it would work or not. Most likely, the outcome would be the latter, but it was worth a shot. When it came to Cordy, anything was. 

[blake-lockhart]

WE MEET AGAIN → CORLAKE

[blake-lockhart]

TAGGING → Blake Lockhart, Cordelia Adams, a group of party people, holla.

TIME FRAME → 7pm onwards, 17th May, 2014.

LOCATION → Some bar in New York idk

NOTES → Blake finally finds out who his mystery girl really is, and perhaps she’s the one he’s been wishing for all along?

"Will it shut you up if I tell you?" He exhaled, she'd always known how to get information out of him, even if it was under duress. "I thought I might have been able to finally move on, okay? And God, I wanted to move on."

"What, so you want me to lie instead? Tell you that I wanted you out of my life, that I was fed up of our relationship and I wanted to go to London to hook up with other blondes? Does that match the work of fiction you've conjured up in your head?" He wasn't surprised she didn't believe him, not surprised in the slightest, but boy, did he want her to accept the truth, and stop hurting. 

She stepped back. She didn't slap him. She cared, maybe she didn't realise it yet, but she did. The lack of distance that had been between them moments before had made his brain slightly fuzzy, and his lips tingle due to the craving of her own, so perhaps he was slightly deluded at this point, but he ignored the possibility as best as he could. In his mind, she cared.

His breathing was accelerated, his chest raised and lowered as if he'd been running a mile as he looked across at Cordelia. "Look, I'm sorry I hurt you. I'm sorry I left. I'm just...I'm sorry, but I can't erase the past. It happened. I'm back now. Can we please stop fighting?" 

[blake-lockhart]

WE MEET AGAIN → CORLAKE

[blake-lockhart]

TAGGING → Blake Lockhart, Cordelia Adams, a group of party people, holla.

TIME FRAME → 7pm onwards, 17th May, 2014.

LOCATION → Some bar in New York idk

NOTES → Blake finally finds out who his mystery girl really is, and perhaps she’s the one he’s been wishing for all along?

“I'm not telling you.” He answered defiantly, crossing his arms once again. “You'll probably manage to use it against me.”

“You're infuriating.” He groaned, wanting to bash his head against the tiled bathroom wall in frustration. “I'm not blaming you, stop twisting my fucking words around. I'm saying it hurt me to leave you, as much as it hurt you to have me leave. Got it? Do you want me to slow down my speech so you can un...der..stand what I'm saying? I didn't think my life would be better without you, I didn't think that; not even once. But I thought I needed to go and it would have been unfair of me to make you come along, to make you drop your life here to come with me.”

As much as her words hurt, Blake didn't think that she meant it. She couldn't have meant it, it wasn't possible. At least, he didn't think so; didn't want to think so. “Fine, then prove it.”  He stepped towards her once more, until he was a mere foot or so away from her, and he lowered his head, making sure that they were kissing distance; which, truthfully, was pulling him apart inside, but he had to know. He had to. “Prove it. If you don't feel anything, anything at all, then push me away right now and slap me." 

[blake-lockhart]

WE MEET AGAIN → CORLAKE

[blake-lockhart]

TAGGING → Blake Lockhart, Cordelia Adams, a group of party people, holla.

TIME FRAME → 7pm onwards, 17th May, 2014.

LOCATION → Some bar in New York idk

NOTES → Blake finally finds out who his mystery girl really is, and perhaps she’s the one he’s been wishing for all along?

“I know when your birthday is, but I wasn't thinking about it! I was excited because I thought--” He thought he was going to move on, he'd felt the connection, he thought he'd had a chance. “-Never mind, it doesn't matter anyway.”

“I thought it was the right thing to do! I thought just leaving would hurt you less. I know how it felt, you weren't the only one fucking hurting, Cordelia!” Calm was out of the window and running as fast as it could in the opposite direction at this point, and infuriated was now taking over in it's place. God, why couldn't they just talk about this like rational adults? “I know I hurt you, but you don't have to cut me off like a wart.”

As soon as the words had left Cordelia's lips, Blake took a step back, hurt written all over his face. The anger that had controlled him moments before had disappeared, and now, all he felt, was pure despondence; emotional agony. She didn't mean it, she couldn't mean it. Could she? Had he really hurt her that badly? So badly that everything she'd ever felt, everything they'd ever shared was just...gone? He shook his head repeatedly, before looking her in the eye, his tone cracked. “That's a lie. Take it back.” 

[blake-lockhart]

WE MEET AGAIN → CORLAKE

[blake-lockhart]

TAGGING → Blake Lockhart, Cordelia Adams, a group of party people, holla.

TIME FRAME → 7pm onwards, 17th May, 2014.

LOCATION → Some bar in New York idk

NOTES → Blake finally finds out who his mystery girl really is, and perhaps she’s the one he’s been wishing for all along?

Ah, now this was the Cordelia he knew and loved. Small, delicate yet feisty. And she could pack a mighty verbal punch; her words being enough to make the corners of his lips curl downwards into a frown, which was a rare sight on his features. “The amiability is over, I see. It's about damn time.”

He uncrossed his arms, holding up one finger, as if to silence her. “Can I talk now?” Without waiting for her to respond, he began, his eyes on hers. “Firstly, I'm not 'attempting to ruin your party.' Jesus, I know how important birthdays are to you, I wouldn't do that. Secondly, I didn't mean to pop up from no where, I came here thinking that I was meeting someone else. Thirdly, last I heard, speaking your mind isn't a crime.” His voice raised slightly, his tone no longer calm, his eyes now just as fiery as hers. “I can't help being pissed off by the fact that you moved on when I didn't, when you could have easily waited.”

He stepped away from the door, forgetting that he was acting as the lock, and moved towards Cordelia, not caring about the high chance of being slapped as he stood in front of her. “Don't. I know what you're going to say; I know what you're thinking. If I didn't want to move on, then I shouldn't have left in the first place, right? I don't have an answer, not one that you'd understand, not the one you want to hear; the one where I say I never loved you in the first place so you can go along with this facade where we're best pals and nothing ever happened between us and you're oh-so-happy but it's not true. So don't. Don't say it.”