Atlas
I was walking a few steps behind while Phoenix led the way, his usual energy seeming a bit subdued today. I wasn't about to let him wander off on his own, not after everything that had been happening. I might act all carefree, but it doesn't mean I don't give a damn—especially about him. People just don't get it. They take one look at me and assume I'm some kind of playboy who doesn't care about anything. Couldn't be further from the truth.
Phoenix glanced back over his shoulder, probably making sure I was still following. He shot me a quick glare. "You don't have to tail me like some creepy stalker, you know."
I just smirked. "If you didn't have a habit of getting into trouble, I wouldn't have to."
He scoffed but didn't push me away. I knew he was still on edge after that dream—or vision, or whatever the hell it was. I couldn't blame him. Seeing that kind of messed-up memory would screw anyone up.
I shoved my hands into my pockets, letting my gaze wander around as we walked. I wasn't much for small talk, but I didn't want him to keep overthinking it either. "You know, you can always just... I dunno, vent or something," I muttered, barely loud enough for him to hear.
Phoenix didn't slow down, but I caught the way his shoulders tensed. "There's nothing to vent about," he replied, trying to sound indifferent.
"Liar." I wasn't buying it, and I knew he knew that. "Look, I get it. Shit's messed up. You're allowed to be freaked out. I just... don't want you keeping it all bottled up. It's gonna screw with your head."
He didn't respond right away, just kept walking. I could see the conflict on his face when he glanced back at me, almost like he wanted to argue but couldn't find the words.
Finally, he sighed. "I'm not used to talking about stuff like that. Ace always tries to shelter me from the worst of it, y'know?"
"Yeah, well, sheltering you doesn't mean you gotta carry it alone," I pointed out.
"Sometimes just saying it out loud makes it easier to deal with. Or, I dunno, throw some insults at me if that helps. Whatever works."
He gave me a weird look, like he was trying to figure out if I was serious or just messing with him. Typical Phoenix—always acting like he's got it under control when he's barely holding it together.
"Fine," he muttered eventually. "It just... it messed me up seeing that. I can't get it out of my head. How helpless she was... and I couldn't do anything."
I stopped walking and grabbed his shoulder, forcing him to turn around and look at me. "It's not your fault," I said firmly. "It already happened, and you had nothing to do with it. You're just seeing what they went through. You can't change that, no matter how much you wish you could."
Phoenix stared at me, his eyes searching mine like he wanted to find some flaw in my logic. But there wasn't any. Sometimes people needed to hear the truth, even if it wasn't comforting.
After a few seconds, he nodded, letting out a breath like he'd been holding it in for too long. "Yeah... I know," he said quietly.
I let go of his shoulder and fell back into step behind him. He didn't say anything else, but his posture wasn't as stiff as before. Maybe he just needed to hear that it wasn't his responsibility to fix everything.
People could call me a playboy or an airhead or whatever they wanted. They didn't know me. And they definitely didn't know how much I cared about keeping the people I gave a damn about safe—even if it meant looking out for someone as stubborn as Phoenix.