Nathaniel #2
But as we pass the aisle he fled from, my eyes spot none other than Atticus Chastain as he searches different workout equipment.
I snatch up the back of Landon’s collar, forcing him to head toward the mentioned aisle instead of moving on to the outdoor toys. He squeals quietly at the abrupt move, but otherwise says nothing.
“Young Master Atticus?” I call out, eyeing him suspiciously.
What is he doing here?
His head snaps in our direction, the fabric of his white button-up straining and his brown hair shifting slightly. But he looks… different.
“Hello, Barfred,” he greets, his tone bored as his gaze flickers between the two of us. “What are you doing here?”
What am I doing here? Funny.
“Shopping for a frisbee,” I explain. “What are you doing here? If you needed something, I’m sure Hannah would have gotten it for you.”
Other than the occasional bookstore run, Atticus is more than comfortable using the resources given to him. The ones that prevent him from leaving Chastain Castle, or his brother’s side.
“I like to get out of the estate sometimes,” he answers awkwardly.
And there’s something… weird about his entire presence. He’s hesitant and looks awkward in his own skin. Those are two things Young Master Atticus never is, so I’m startled to see them.
It’s also a bit similar, too. Though the bright glow and healthy appearance are not comparable, the way he feels reminds me of how Young Master Atlas used to feel, back before he was cured.
“Oh,” I mutter. But I can’t help it—I’m protective and nosy as all hell. “What’s going on with you? Are you alright?”
A brief expression of irritation passes over his features, his body becoming tense, as if he’s experiencing fight or flight right here in the store.
“I’m fine. Why do you ask?” He definitely sounds annoyed, but there’s something… off.
“You look… different. You look unlike yourself,” I tell him, taking in his appearance once more just to make sure I’m right.
I am.
“I feel fine,” he answers, tone final.
But Landon, who has been silent beside me so far, stands up straight. Like a dog hearing the word walk, he’s at full attention.
“Let me ask him,” he offers, and confidence and anticipation are dripping from him so steadily that I just know he means coercion.
He wants to use his gift to force the truth from my boss’s son.
On instinct alone, I shove my fingers into Landon’s soft hair and yank his head back to stare into his eyes, all of my attention focused on him.
“I dare you,” I seethe, letting it be perfectly clear that his little stunt won’t be happening. Not in front of me.
Didn’t I tell him to lie low? Has he been ignoring that command? The fucking council is sniffing around him like vicious dogs, and he’s trying to show off in a sporting goods store?!
Landon releases a shaky breath before swallowing roughly. His tanned skin flushes so deeply you’d think I just told him to get naked, but surprisingly, he listens beautifully. With a single nod, he keeps his mouth sealed and just…waits.
“Uh, alright,” Atticus says quietly, and I become startlingly aware that he’s still watching us. That he might very well know who Landon is and might report back to Julian that he’s seen us together.
But he wouldn’t, right? He doesn’t even like Julian.
“I’m just gonna…” he adds, waving toward the workout equipment he was looking at before we interrupted him.
With his attention diverted, I debate internally whether to push him. But Landon is still with me, and I fear the two of them interacting will only end in questions I can’t answer, so I grab his shirt once again and drag him from the aisle.
I do feel a sense of guilt, though. If something is wrong with Atticus and I can’t help him the way I couldn’t help Atlas, I think I might freak out. They may not be my family by blood, but at this point, I do really care about them.
Even if they don’t consider me family, I want to help, even if in such a small way.
Not that I’d call reviving Julian small. No one thinks that, including Julian himself, who followed me around like a lost puppy for a few days before I finally got him to fuck off.
I’m very happy Atlas is safe again and incredibly thankful to Julian for risking his life to make it happen, but I’m not a savior. I’m not someone who should be praised or idolized, and Julian acting that way kind of pissed me off—made me feel cornered.
Luckily, he fucked off after I snapped at him. And if that slight irritation also comes from thinking of Landon every time I see his face, I’m choosing not to delve into the meaning behind it.
“What was that about?” Landon asks as soon as we’re a few aisles away. “I’m taking your word for it on him looking different than usual, but he seemed coiled so tight.”
Landon isn’t wrong. Atticus looks about two seconds from freaking out.
“Not sure,” I mutter. “I’ll have to keep an eye on him.”
For a moment, Landon just stares at me. His expression is blank, but he’s clutching the ends of his jacket sleeves so tightly his knuckles have gone white.
“Hey, stop that,” I chastise, slapping his fists.
They immediately loosen, though Landon scoffs and switches his blank stare for a glare. But he listened, and that’s all that truly matters.
We find the foldable frisbee that Landon was talking about when we first walked in and check out, loading onto my bike and heading five minutes east toward the park.
As we arrive, Landon is quick to jump down, almost eager. I miss the warmth of him pressed to me almost immediately, but I chalk it up to how alone I’ve been these past few years.
Casual hook-ups always make me feel that sensation even more demandingly, but with him, it’s kind of hard to feel alone—no matter how casual we are.
Not when he’s so desperate to be around me, to have me pound into him so roughly.
“Let’s eat first,” he suggests as I hang our helmets and slide off the bike.
I huff in acknowledgement, following him to a small bench hidden beneath some trees. Landon passes me a sandwich before unwrapping his own.
He doesn’t take a bite, only swinging his legs and staring at the small playground in the distance as he says, “So, where is your family?”
“What?” I startle, my head snapping in his direction.
But he still doesn’t look at me, only shrugging. “I didn’t see any photos. Where are they? You said you’re not close with them?”
This conversation topic is incredibly uncomfortable and typically makes me shut down. Add to that that it’s Landon asking, and how the last thing I wanted today was to get involved in any more emotionally intimate situations with him, and it becomes clear that I’d simply rather die than respond.
Which is why I’m so surprised as I say, “We’re estranged. I don’t speak to them.”
“Estranged?” Landon repeats, as if the idea of not speaking to his family is blasphemous.
“Last I saw, they were still in Austin.”
Shut up! I think to myself, but even as I force my mouth shut, Landon keeps fucking talking.
“Oh, wow. So you lived there before? Why are you estranged?”
I sigh, taking a bite of my turkey sandwich to give myself a moment to think. Giving him this information isn’t smart—it reveals weakness.
But… if I gave him something to chew on, maybe I could pry into his life?
“They aren’t good people,” I confess after swallowing. “Simple as that.”
Landon scoffs. “And you’re so much better?”
My eyes sharpen, narrowing in on him before he even finishes his sentence.
Landon’s own eyes widen, his shoulders stiffening at whatever he’s reading from my expression.
“Never mind,” he whispers. “I didn’t mean… sorry.”
“What about you?” I interrupt quickly. “Close with your family?”
Landon relaxes, fiddling with his food as he nods. “Yeah, close enough. My older sister can be annoying, but I personally think she’s just bitter that she didn’t inherit the gift.”
He’s talking about coercion, and it makes me even more curious to hear.
“Are you the only one who has it?” I ask.
In my family, it was my mother who inherited illusion, and both my brother and I were born with it too. I wasn’t previously aware that a sibling could be skipped.
“No,” Landon says shortly, taking a bite of his sandwich and then speaking around it. “Just me and my uncle.”
His uncle!
But instead of asking about him, what leaves my mouth is, “Don’t speak with your mouth full.”