Lexie is not a warrior. In fact, Lexie is a painter. Her hands are always covered in paint. Never coming off. Always there. For Lexie, painting is an escape. An escape from her pain. She paints to avoid the darkness that is in her soul. She paints t...
I lost thought on whether or not I'm a coward or weak anymore.
Because ever since we arrived back at the pack house, I've done nothing but paint.
I stare at the image of the creature I had created.
Somehow the paints seem too dark. The branches of the trees it rests upon are too long. Their color is not right. Something is off.
That's when I realize what trees I'm painting.
What branches the bird is sitting on.
The trees of the forest.
From that night.
Without warning I shove the canvas aside, letting the work fall to the floor as paints splatter along the edges.
Red.
Red paint, in small specks, can be seen.
The door opens.
"Lexie?"
I look up in time to see Atlas's wide eyes as he rushes over to me. I try not to flinch from the feel of his thumb as he brushes it along my cheek.
He sighs in deep relief, looking at the stain that now can be seen on his skin.
"Just paint," he whispers.
I look down at his hand and feel a familiar emotion rise within me.
Atlas's was like Mark now.
Now that I had told him my story.
Mark never let me handle sharp objects.
Though he claimed it was because he was stronger and something that he could handle, he never let me hold a knife after that day.
I noticed when all the medicine was gone.
I noticed when he removed any traces of rope.
That tied into the other reason for why I shut myself in.
Because I couldn't handle Mark's eyes as he watched me.
And now, Atlas was like Mark.
I don't say anything though.
I didn't want to lie to Atlas anymore. Therefore I didn't want to say the words, 'I'm fine,' to him.
Because that would be a lie.
Atlas looks at the canvas that is on the floor.
"What happen?"
"It fell," the lie slips from my mouth before I can even register it.
I gasp, making Atlas stiffen as I shake my head, "No, that's not true. I pushed it."
Atlas smiles and slowly flexes his knees, bending down until we are eye level with each other.
"You're safe Lexie."
I nod and grab the canvas from the ground, looking at the smeared paint that had not yet dried.
I look up at the feel of Atlas's hand, stroking my head.
A smile seems hard to compose. In fact, any emotion seems hard to bring up. But the feel of his hand on my skin, sends small sparks down my body. A flare of warmth.
I close my eyes, allowing myself to soak in the feeling.
"Atlas," I whisper his name.
His warm breath is hot on my neck. I open my eyes to find his own are closed. Still stroking my head.
"Lexie, this is probably not the time to bring it up but...you smell so good."
I jerk back and without warning laugh.
Atlas opens his eyes, smiling down at me.
"I didn't expect you to say that," I admit.
He shrugs, "Help me out here Lex. Just tell me what to do. I'll do anything for you. I will. You," he leans in closer, taking in my scent more, "have me at your mercy."
I smile. This male. He had managed to bring me out of my darkness.
"You are doing alright."
"Am I? I hate seeing you like this."
He pulls up a chair, resting himself on it, as he goes back to studying me.
"I feel lost to be honest. I don't know if I can touch you. I don't know if that's okay. I want to, but at the same time, I won't if you don't want it."
I look down and smile. Atlas had been thinking through this. He had been worrying about me.
"I honestly don't know," I look up and, upon reflex, grab a nearby paintbrush, the feel of it in my hand relaxing me to continue, "There are moments when I feel fine. And then moments when I don't. When I want to be alone and painting. But then again I want to be with someone. But...not touching. Maybe not even talking. Just with someone."
Atlas stands then, "You look tired."
I blink up at him, processing his words as I slowly nod in agreement.
"Go to sleep Lexie. I'll stay with you."
I stand and walk to the bed, Atlas trailing behind me.
Wordlessly we both get in on our own sides.
Not touching.
But I can still feel his warmth.
"What time is it?" I whisper.
"It's almost two."
Two in the morning. Atlas had been up so late.
"Thank you."
We lay there, side by side, taking in the others breathing as slowly, I feel my eyes grow heavy.
"Goodnight Lexie."I hear his whispered words trail along in my mind. Sleep comes easy to me. The warmth at my side protects me from the evils of my nights mind.
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Friday will bring another update and a lllooonnnggerrrr chapter!
