The course of true love never did run smooth - A Midsummer Night's Dream
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A tale of two lost souls brought together by pain, grief and trauma.
Atlas tries to find a place in a world he's worked so hard to escape. Elijah struggles to balance the...
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AS WE LAY tangled in each other's arms, I trace my fingers along Atlas' skin, watching in amusement as little bumps in the wake of my touch. His head is tucked under my chin, and he huffs irritably as I continue to trace patterns along his arm.
"That tickles," he snaps. He doesn't move to bat my hand away.
"You're not doing anything to stop me," I point out with a grin. "Your hair is tickling me, but you don't hear me complaining."
Atlas rolls his eyes, the argument dying on his lips. Instead, he shifts, propping up on one elbow to stare down at me. His edges are softened in a way I've never seen before. He'd always seemed so frail and thin, but with his shirt off, his well-concealed muscles are on display. They're subtle but sinewy, betraying his otherwise delicate outward appearance, and I have a hard time keeping my fingers from wandering along the sculpted grooves and ridges. His caramel skin glows softly as if he had soaked up a ray of sunlight. With eyes specked with gold and yellow for a moment, they remind me of cat eyes. When he nudges into my neck with his nose I swear he purrs as if to prove that point.
Then his eyes narrow, and I see the ray of light dull. "We need to figure out what to do with Dan's issue..."
Our little bubble bursts, and I roll onto my back. So much for forgetting the rest of the world.
"I don't want to talk about that right now," I groan, closing my eyes.
I feel his hand against my cheek, and I'm forced to look at him again. "Hey, no, we have to. Time is running out, and even though Selena hasn't reared her head from hell, she's lurking around somewhere waiting to jump."
"You have a very vivid imagination," I say drily.
He rolls his eyes. "Whatever, it's true, though. She's just as dangerous as Jason, Eli, and we're no closer to finding where Dan stashed those drugs than we were a week ago!"
"I don't even know where to begin," I sigh, "I don't know much about Dan's street life, A. How am I supposed to find out where he put the drugs?"
Atlas shrugs and leans down to capture my lips. "Dan was only concerned about two things: getting the next hit, and you. He'd stash the drugs and money somewhere memorable."
"You make it sound like he was meaningful or some shit," I mutter. "Dan only cared about himself. He definitely didn't care about me."
Atlas' lips purse. "He did. He never talked about his family or his past, but he talked about you."
We fall into a stiff silence, our eyes locked on each other. It's hard to fathom that Dan cared for me or thought highly of me when he hurt me over and over again.
My audition application's memory tried to surface, and I pushed it down, but I wasn't fast enough. Dan stumbled into the room, cheering obnoxiously loud just as I reached the most challenging part of my piece.
