Author's Note: Okay, I think it's only fair to warn you that I cannot promise anything about the quality of this story. This is a finals baby, written in bits and pieces over the past week or so during study breaks, and then edited in the aftermath (thank God finals are finally over... and yay for summer! :-D). I'm not completely sure I like the way it all turned out, but I've been kicking this idea around for a while, and I do like most of it, so I'm just going to go with it.

In case you couldn't tell, I'm delving into the head of a character who's been kind of thoroughly crapped upon by my lovely self so far in most of my stories - the ever-charming Prince Sky of Eraklyon. I'd long since wondered what Sky's reaction would be to Sparxshipping, and this fic sort of sprung out of my crazy wonderings. Hope I didn't get him too OOC - this is my first time ever really focusing on him, after all. I think, though, that considering all the circumstances I mostly did him justice. Whether or not you all agree or disagree is something which I am thoroughly interested in finding out.

A companion-ish piece is in the works - a Diaspro-centric introspective about Royalshipping - which should take some considerable muscle-stretching on my part but will likely be loads better than this thing, considering the conditions under which it was written. And another Sparxshipping piece, this one from Faragonda's POV (that should be fun...).

Before I get off the screen and let you finally read this elusive story, I'd just like to remind any Sparxshipping fans to keep a lookout for my new story - called Kyrie Eleison - coming very soon to a computer screen near you. My Gen 2 trilogy fans, expect the last installment of WPIP soon too. And Leap of Faith... well, that's not in my hands right now anyways, so go bug Liz (emberfire411) if you want to know when that'll be updated.

By now, I'm sure you're wondering if it was even worth it to click on this fic. Well, I hope that when you finish it, you'll think it was.

Enjoy!

And I know that he knows I'm unfaithful

And it kills him inside

To know that I am happy

With some other guy

–"Unfaithful", Rihanna

It took me four months to see what was right under my nose all along.

Four months to realize that I was being played for a fool, by the one person I thought I could trust unconditionally.

In hindsight, of course, it was glaringly obvious. How did I miss this for so long? Why didn't I realize that something was up?

How could I have let the person I cared about more than anything in the realms slip out of my fingers so easily?

And most importantly – now that I know the truth, why do I continue to torture myself like this?

Maybe if I'd been a little more perceptive, a little less trusting and vulnerable, I could've prevented this whole thing from ever happening. I've been over the facts in my head a thousand times since figuring everything out, and there was definitely a point at which she started to drift away from me – after the incident at the Millennium Ball. Goddamn it, to think that if I'd just been a little smarter – refused that stupid toast with Diaspro! – I might still have Bloom all to myself.

Instead, I got spelled, and while I was picking up the pieces in the aftermath of the reversal, he swooped in.

What in the realms do they have in common, besides the Dragon Fire? She's beautiful and delicate and perfect, and he's… Baltor.

God, even thinking his name makes me shudder.

What does she see in him? He's a psychopath who's trying to take over the magical dimension; what is the allure? He's not even good-looking – all those weird ruffly shirts and ties that look like something out of one of those Victorian-era novels from Earth she loves. And those creepy cat-like eyes…

What does he have that I don't?

Besides my girlfriend, that is.

"Come on, Sky," Riven said, shoving my shoulder roughly from behind. "She's not going to call. Stop acting like a pathetic lovesick fool and come with us. A little danger, a little adrenaline, get your blood pumping – you'll forget all about her."

I scowled, wrenching free of his grip, and stared at Bloom's picture on my cell phone, which remained, stubbornly, silent. "Is that what you would do if Musa hadn't been returning your calls all day?"

Riven scoffed. "I wouldn't even let it bother me that much. Chicks play hard to get sometimes – it's in their DNA or something. Come on, dude, stop acting like an idiot. You're going, if I have to drag you onto the hovercraft myself."

I rolled my eyes, but reached for my sword – still sheathed – dropping my phone onto the bed. "No need to go to extremes, dude. I'll go."

Riven smirked (of course, he'd never show such an honest, open emotion as a smile), and, for good measure, jostled me in the back again. "Better hurry. Hovercraft's leaving in five."

I sighed, casting one last longing look in the direction of my bed, willing the phone to ring. This was so unlike Bloom; normally, if she missed a call, she'd be calling back right away, full of apologies. Or, if her phone was broken or something, she'd use one of the other girls' phones. Even if she were in detention, she'd still text. Something felt seriously wrong.

But it wasn't like it was a crime to miss a few calls. Most likely, she'd just gone out somewhere and forgotten her phone. Besides, what would I tell anyone, if they'd even listen – that I thought my girlfriend had been abducted or something because she wasn't picking up her phone? Riven was right. I was overreacting, and making a mighty fine fool of myself doing it. With a newfound resolve, I stood up and headed for the door, down the hall and in the direction of the helipad.

In no time at all, it seemed, we were dropping down in the shadows of Cloud Tower, and my blood was racing in my veins. This was why I loved going to Red Fountain – the thrill of stealth, the anticipation of the unknown, the risk of getting caught, everything balanced on a razor's-edge precipice. And Riven had been right – Bloom was but a distant thought in my mind.

"You check the library – I'll take Griffin's office," I whispered. Riven just nodded. I briefly wondered why he didn't try to fight me for the better (read: riskier) assignment, but then figured it was probably his way of extending an olive branch.

I'd long since memorized the layout to Cloud Tower, although it felt vaguely wrong, sneaking around here like this. We are, I reminded myself. This is Baltor's fault. He's doing all of this.

And then, there he was – like I'd conjured him up somehow by thinking about him. I cursed silently under my breath, wishing I'd grabbed one of Tecna's invisibility charms off Timmy's desk. Calculating the distances between me, him, and the nearest exit, I was about to take my chances when another figure came into view.

Another harrowingly familiar figure, with bright red hair in a riot of curls falling down her back. There was only one person with hair that color in Magix. My mind raced, immediately concocting all kinds of horrifying scenarios in which she'd been captured and tortured, and what would be the best way to save her.

I tensed, getting into a position that would allow me to react with less than a second's warning, and was about to move – stealth be damned – when she turned, tossing her head back in laughter, her unmistakable blue eyes shining. He said something else in a voice too low for me to make out, and as she responded in kind, he pulled her towards him, until their bodies were pressed together in an all too intimate embrace. My stomach churned; she hardly looked a captive.

His hand reached up to tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear, fingers trailing along the line of her jaw, and then slowly, he tilted her chin up, their lips meeting in a tender, passionate kiss.

Bile rose in my throat, and I had to fight the urge to throw up.

The kiss went on and on, the nausea swirling in my stomach making it increasingly hard to remain unseen. Then his fingers reached for the zipper on her jacket, and without thinking twice, I bolted down the hallway, mission be damned.

So that was why she hadn't been returning my calls.

"Hey."

She jumps, the eyes of her reflection in the mirror flickering with a mix of emotions swirling too fast to be named. "Sky." When she speaks, her voice is controlled and even, but the panic in her eyes never goes away. "What are you doing here?"

"Do I need a reason to come see my girlfriend now? I had a long day, and just missed you, that's all. Thought that maybe we could go do something." I stare her up and down, taking in the tight black halter dress that clings to every curve of her body like a second skin, her normally wild curls tamed into sleek ringlets, the carefully applied makeup on her heart-shaped face.

Jealousy flares in my chest, white-hot and burning. It's painfully obvious where she's going, but I ask anyways. "Looks like you've already got some big plans for tonight, though. Where're you going?"

Plucking a necklace from her jewelry box, her reply is light and easy. "Clubbing with the girls. It was Stella's idea. I'd invite you to come with, but she's insisting we do a girls' night, since Layla's still guy-less."

"Mmm-hmm," I nod, not mentioning that I know for a fact that Brandon and Stella are on a hovercraft right now in the Resort Realm, watching a fireworks show. A flash of red from her necklace catches my eye, and I look down at the pendant nestling in the gap of her cleavage, which is exposed far too much in that dress she's wearing. "Nice necklace. Is it new? I don't remember seeing it before."

Immediately, her hands fly up to finger the large ruby pendant hanging from the gold chain. "It was a present from Mike and Vanessa," she says. Lies – that ruby is a perfect match for the one that recently went missing from the Crown Princess's tiara on Isis. Isis, which coincidentally happens to be the latest realm ransacked by Baltor and the Trix. It's not the first precious gem to go missing, either – and not the first time I've noticed her with a new bauble that seems to appear out of nowhere.

I wonder if she knows just where the jewels come from.

Our eyes meet in the mirror again. I think she knows that I know, or at least suspects something. I've been trying my best to act normal, but it's hard sometimes, when I think about his lips on hers, his hands on her pretty little body…

I look down to see my hands have unconsciously balled themselves into fists, fingernails digging into my palms. I take a deep breath and force myself to calm down, planting a quick kiss on her cheek. "I guess I'll catch you later."

"See you later," she says distractedly, dabbing perfume on the side of her neck, sounding like she's only half there. It's obvious she can't wait to be rid of me.

She'll never break up with me, though – that much I know for sure. She needs her cover, after all. So that means it's entirely my decision to stop torturing myself like this – seeing her, but not getting all of her. Calling her mine, but knowing that she's really his. Taking her lies, and wondering what she tells him about me – the pathetic, lovesick fool, obsessed with a girl who's not his and hasn't been for quite some time.

Maybe I should just let her go. But that's the thing, you see – I don't know how to. Since that fateful meeting at her house on Earth, she's wormed her way into my heart, taken root and set tendrils into every part, until now she's as much a part of me as I am myself. To get rid of her would be like cutting out my own heart. I suppose that's really not too much different from the alternative – the way things are now.

I hope he makes her happy. She looks happy – happier than she ever did with me. Still… if he ever hurts her… I'll be there to set him in his place. (Or, most likely, die trying.)

One day, maybe, I'll be strong enough to give her up. But for now, I'll keep circling her in our twisted dance, pretending that I can't see her slipping away from me with every passing day. She's my drug, and I'm an addict desperately seeking a fix.

I only wish I knew how to quit while I'm still somewhat ahead.

Our love, his trust,

I might as well take a gun and put it to his head

Get it over with

I don't want to do this

Anymore

Author's Note: So?

Like I said, this is far from my best work. But pretty good, right, considering that it was written during what was undoubtedly one of the most frantic, crazy, mind-melting weeks of my life? (Good Lord, I loathe finals - hands up if you agree with me!)

I pretty much got everything I had to say out of the way at the beginning, so all I ask now is that you click the little REVIEW button and tell me what you thought. Even if you hated it, let me know (just please put it tactfully...).

Later, peeps!

- Authoress