Julian #2
“No,” Landon rushes out. “Julian, let’s go now, okay?”
Barfred’s cat-like eyes brighten, his grin turning more sinister with each passing second that he watches Landon.
“Oh, I see,” he says quietly, and Lan’s eyes finally snap to meet his, as he glares at the cook, who continues to speak. “Good luck, then.”
Barfred turns on his heel and disappears, exiting the kitchen gracefully, considering his large frame.
“What the fuck was that about?” Susie demands.
Landon visibly relaxes, his eyes falling to the floor as he releases a quiet breath. But every few seconds, his gaze returns to the kitchen door, as if he’s terrified or desperate for Barfred to appear again.
“Nothing,” he says quietly.
“Shall we?” I nod toward the door, granting Landon an escape from the tension in the room.
He shoots me a grateful smile, the first smile I’ve seen from him since last night in the bathroom, and follows Susie as she leaves the room. I bring up the rear, the tray of tea in my hands.
I have no clue what Barfred and Landon were truly discussing, or how they became so familiar with each other so quickly, but the concern I felt in the moment fades swiftly.
I have no room for concern, not as I’m watching over my shoulder in case Atlas chooses to appear and peeking into every dark shadow where that thing could be lingering.
With our coats on and our tray of tea, we head through the back courtyard.
“Holy shit! There’s no railing or anything; I could jump right off!” Susie hollers, her eyes big and round as her long ginger hair blows in the wind.
“Don’t stand too close to the edge,” I tell her, raising my own voice to be heard over the crashing of the waves.
Landon approaches and takes a mug from the tray.
“Thank you,” he says softly.
“Yeah, of course.”
Susie grabs one as well, and after setting the metal tray on one of the stone ledges in the dilapidated garden a few paces behind us, I take my own mug and join them near the edge of the cliff.
“You really do live in a fantasy world, Julie,” Lan says, his eyes tracing the edge of the Pacific where it blends into the grey, cloudy sky.
“I was bummed about you leaving us, but it seems like you’re living a good life. We’re happy for you,” Susie adds.
“Thanks, guys,” I reply, a shy smile playing at my lips.
They’re not wrong; I am living a good life. Or I was, until last night. Until that thing. Now I’m terrified of nightfall—now I’m scared of what might happen to me if I stay in this castle.
And I’m equally terrified of what will happen to Atlas if I leave it.
“Are you going to tell us what happened to your face?” Landon asks after a moment of silence, and Susie eyes me, already knowing what I’ll say.
I sigh. “Listen, I—”
I can’t tell if I’m incredibly lucky or the most unfortunate man on the planet. On the one hand, I’m saved from having to bullshit my way through another line of questions; on the other hand, I’m now faced with Atlas Chastain.
He approaches from behind, clearing his throat just loud enough to be heard over the wind and the waves.
All three of us turn at the same time, finding him standing there in one of his many sheer, black blouses and his white cotton pants. A large, puffy black coat is hanging on his shoulders, though his slim arms haven’t been slid through the openings.
He looks just as beautiful as he always does. A darling boy, a sweet little bunny.
“Hi!” Susie greets cheerfully, sticking out a hand as she introduces herself. “I’m Susie, one of Julian’s friends.”
Atlas stares at her hand for a moment before those big blue eyes peer up at me from under thick black lashes, and a hot stroke of protectiveness courses through me.
“Young Master Atlas isn’t to be touched without permission,” I say sharply, and both Susie and Landon look at me with shocked, wide eyes.
“I’m sorry… who?” Susie asks, her hand retreating to her side.
“Hello,” Atlas says, bowing his head slightly. “I am Atlas Chastain. I apologize for the awkwardness; I have a condition that makes physical contact difficult for me.”
There is a long pause where my friends simply stare at him, and Atlas blushes a soft, pretty shade of pink as he looks between the two of them.
Right as I’m about to speak, to cut the tension and save Atlas from the uncomfortable position he’s in, Susie chuckles.
“Jesus. Is everyone in this castle hot? You’re super pretty, Atlas.”
Atlas flushes further as he replies, “Thank you.” And then after a moment, with his eyes nervously darting between the ground and Susie, he adds, “You’re pretty as well, Susie.”
Something uncomfortable turns in my stomach. Although I’m almost completely sure Atlas likes men—though he’s never confirmed he wasn’t into both men and women—I find it irritating that she’s received a compliment before I have.
What would it sound like, his praising me? I resist the urge to shudder, though I’m sure I could blame it on the cold.
“Aw, you’re so sweet!” Susie squeals. “You said you have a condition? If you’re sick, should you be out here?”
“It’s not… it’s not that kind of condition,” Atlas answers quietly.
Susie just nods, as if she completely understands, and smiles brightly.
Atlas returns his gaze to me, but almost immediately, his eyes fall to my cheeks and where those two harsh scratches are etched into my skin. Without thinking, I raise my hand to cover one.
“Julian,” he says, and his eyes tell me he has so much he wants to tell me, to ask. But instead, he tilts his head slightly and gives me the world’s saddest, smallest smile.
It hurts.
I find I’ve missed his presence more than I care to admit, though it’s only been so many hours since I began avoiding him completely.
How has he been? Has that thing returned to his room in the west tower? Is he burning up like he was that night when I bathed him?
“Hello,” Landon suddenly speaks, taking a step forward yet not reaching out to Atlas the way Susie first did. “I’m Landon.”
His tone is much less inviting, his eyes staring blankly at Atlas as he studies him from head to toe. Then, he turns those green eyes onto me, observing me with interest and a hint of what I interpret as resentment.
“Hello, Landon,” Atlas greets him. “It’s lovely to meet you.”
Landon just nods, staring him down again, almost as if he can’t believe the boy in front of him.
“Want to hang out with us?” Susie asks, her bright eyes kind as she watches Atlas.
“Oh.” He seems shocked, blinking as the wind plays with the various little brown curls that rest against his forehead. “Are… are you sure?”
“Yeah!” Susie shouts, taking a small step toward the fidgeting boy. “We don’t mind, do we, boys?”
Atlas turns his gaze onto me once more, and for a moment, time seems to stop. It is only the two of us standing on this cliffside, our eyes locked onto one another, and my breath leaving me in slow, almost lethargic exhales.
If he is waiting for some kind of encouragement—a hint of assurance that I want him to spend the afternoon with my friends and me—he will soon be disappointed.
I can’t offer him a comfortable place by my side, even as the most innocent of friends, when I know he is suffering the way he is and unwilling to allow me to help, when I am currently being forced to suffer alongside him.
And worse, I can’t allow him to occupy the space that surrounds me or willingly give him access to my every waking thought when I not only know how pretty he looks while coming undone, but how desperately he enjoys being dismantled and torn to shreds, all while knowing I do not have the honor of doing it myself.
Atlas must read this hesitance on my expression, his big eyes turning sad and lids drooping slightly. His bottom lip trembles.
The boy looks utterly and completely rejected.
“That’s alright,” he starts, turning to give Susie a small smile. “I just want to watch the waves for a bit, then I’ll be retiring for some time alone. I appreciate your kindness, though.”
Susie nods enthusiastically, and Landon continues his previous task of staring blankly at Atlas, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket.
We stay this way for a while longer: with Atlas watching the Pacific—I know he’s waiting for the cure-all I’ve heard him speak of, but nothing comes—and Susie, Landon, and me chatting idly.
I can’t help but keep an eye on Atlas the entire time, overly aware of his presence and the calm way in which his lips are settled, his hands clasped at the small of his back.
His eyes watch hopefully, little curls continually tossed around by the breeze. I want to touch him. I want to reassure him that he hasn’t done anything wrong—that I’m not mad at him. I just can’t handle the truth and what I’m unable to do for him; I can’t handle what I want to do to him.
After some time, Atlas gives us all a soft smile and turns from the ocean. “Have a great day. It was a pleasure meeting you both. Safe travels on your return home.”
“Have a good one, Atlas!” Susie says, still having no regard for formality. Atlas doesn’t seem to mind, only nodding as he turns toward the estate.
Landon says nothing—not until Atlas has disappeared through the back door—when he turns to me and says, “I didn’t know your type had changed.”
“Huh?” I sound, cocking my head at him in confusion.
Susie’s eyes dart between the two of us.
Landon almost looks… annoyed?
“When did you start liking twinks? He’s a little pretty and girly for your taste, no?” he presses, and something ugly and hot turns over in my gut.
Not only because I feel incredibly judged, but because it feels as if he’s judging Atlas, who was nothing but kind to Landon.
“He’s my boss’s son,” I counter, narrowing my eyes at his green ones. My expression is telling him to shut the fuck up, but he doesn’t listen.
Landon never listens.
“Have you put hands on him?” he asks.
I say nothing. I can’t lie to him, he knows this, and I technically did lay hands on him when I pinned him to my bedroom door and told him I’d fuck him better than his made-up boyfriend ever could.
But luckily, I don’t have to speak as Susie comes to my rescue.