Atlas #2
“A-Atlas?” he pushes out, but it sounds painful to say, and he winces.
“Julie,” I cry softly, scooting close once again, brushing his wet hair from his face. “You’re alright now. We have you. You’re safe.”
Julian groans, still getting his bearings, and my eyes flicker up to Barfred, who is watching Julian with relieved eyes.
In a flash, I’m leaning over where Julian lies, my arms thrown around Barfred’s neck.
“Thank you,” I tell him. “Thank you so, so much. I… I can never repay you for what you’ve done.”
Barfred pats my back gently, his body stiff and wet. “No worries, Young Master Atlas. Just doing what’s right.”
As I pull away from him, he pats my head, just as he did my back, and stands.
“I need to shower before I catch a cold,” he says, before he turns and walks away as if he didn’t just save the man I love.
“W-where am I?” Julian mumbles, rolling onto his back.
“Nope,” Atticus chastises, leaning down to grip Julian by the shoulders and pulling him up into a sitting position. “If you die from choking on your own vomit after the big show you just put on, I’ll lose my mind.”
To my surprise, Julian raises his shaking middle finger. “Fuck you, Atticus.”
And Atticus releases a startled laugh. “Let me help Atlas get you inside, then you can shit-talk me, how about that, Julian?”
Julian mutters something under his breath that I don’t catch, but I take it as an agreement. I’m dying to get him into a hot bath so that I can speak with him. Alone.
It’s most definitely a two-person job—hauling Julian up the hillside and then up to the second floor of the estate.
Atticus lets us use his and Abigail’s bathroom so that we don’t have to drag him up the west tower stairs.
Once I have the tub full of hot water, Atticus leaves, and Julian gives me no real reaction as I strip him of his clothes and guide him into the tub.
I notice bruising on his ribs as he settles, beginning to color the left side of his body, but I don’t comment on it. We can take him to the infirmary after we make sure he doesn’t have pneumonia.
Julian sighs against the hot water, his chattering teeth slowly beginning to calm. His lips, once purple, begin to regain the soft pink they were before he jumped.
It takes roughly twenty minutes for him to thaw enough to be completely lucid. Once he is, Julian only has the desire to stare at me.
Brown eyes watch my face as if he’s waiting for something, as if he’s dreaming.
“You were right,” I say softly, sitting on my knees at the edge of the tub.
“Hm?” he sounds, tilting his head slightly.
“About the curse,” I add. “When you… When you died, it broke. I don’t feel it anymore.”
In fact, the clarity with which my mind is working and the way my skin feels completely and utterly calm is astounding. I have no desire to devour Julian, outside of everyday lust, and I don’t think I’ll die if I don’t orgasm soon.
I am not burning up. I am not overwhelmed.
“So it did work? I didn’t fail?” The way he says it, it’s as if he views his being here as a failure and not a blessing. Like he was more worried about the curse still being around than he was happy to be breathing.
“You didn’t fail,” I assure him. “You died momentarily, but then Barfred brought you back with some CPR.”
“Good,” he mumbles. “That’s really good, baby.”
Julian blinks lazily, clearly exhausted. But I’m not done with him yet.
“I’m very angry with you.” I let my fingers drag through the water until they reach his chest, where I rest them lightly.
Julian grins. “And why is that?”
“Because you did something stupid,” I say, as if it’s obvious.
“But it cured you,” he counters.
“I’d rather be cursed than you be dead.”
“And I’d rather be dead than you be in danger.”
We are at a standstill, neither of us willing to budge. I’m glaring at him, and he’s looking at me as if I’m the most precious thing in the world.
“Stop being mad at me,” he pleads softly. “Let me be happy that I get to love you now.”
My heart shatters. Julian looks so peaceful here, right next to me and having broken my curse, and all he wants is to be happy together.
I can give him that.
“Okay,” I whisper, leaning over the water to kiss his lips. They’re still a bit cold. “I’m not mad.”
“Then get in here,” he demands, pulling at the buttons of my pajama shirt.
As I strip off my clothes and climb into the tub, I can’t stop giggling.
He’s alive.
“You jumped from the cliff?!” Jeremy shouts, slamming his hands onto the dinner table.
Barfred winces as he places our food in front of us, and my hand instinctively reaches out to squeeze Julian’s thigh.
He sighs. “Yes, Dad. I jumped. And died, apparently.”
“What?!”
“I can’t believe you ratted me out,” Julian mutters, glaring daggers at where Atticus sits.
Tonight, Julian has taken the seat his father normally takes, right next to me.
Atticus just shrugs. “I had to explain how Atlas’s curse was broken.”
But now, when my brother looks at Julian, there is no trace of distrust in his gaze. Only humor and mild annoyance.
“Listen,” Julian continues. “I did what a man is supposed to do. Isn’t that what you always taught me?”
“Don’t you dare turn this on me—”
“And,” Julian cuts his father off. “I’m safe and sound. There are no more monsters. Can we not all be happy that everything is right in the world?”
At this, Atticus’s smile falls away, which I find odd, but he quickly dives into his roasted chicken. I’ll have to ask him about that later.
“How do I know you won’t do something reckless later on?” Jeremy asks, stabbing a green bean with his fork.
“I promise nothing,” Julian responds, grinning.
“Well, personally, I am very thankful,” Father cuts in, giving Julian a proud smile.
After his shower, before Jeremy was called, my parents spent a good thirty minutes gushing over Julian as he was worked on in the infirmary.
Atticus had called the doctor while we were in the bathroom. Turns out Julian has two broken ribs, but he’s lucky that’s the only consequence of his jump.
Father and Mother doted on him, offering him his job back and telling him how grateful they were, how he’s a part of the family now, to which Julian said he wouldn’t accept, as family members can’t date other family members.
I thought that was very cute.
But then Jeremy showed up for dinner, and the atmosphere plummeted again.
“Me as well,” Mother interjects. “I am extremely grateful.”
“Of course you are; it wasn’t your child that jumped,” Jeremy grumbles.
Father laughs lightly, taking his bitter tone with a grain of salt. “I understand your anger, Jeremy; I really do. But the boys are safe now, and you’ll be under the same roof and can keep an eye on him. Isn’t that enough?”
Jeremy sighs, dropping his fork onto his plate with a clack.
Then, he says, “Alright, alright.” His eyes flick to me, and then he smiles softly. “I’m happy you’re safe, Young Master Atlas.”