Always?

Chapter 6

Atlas was standing in his living room with a slight frown as he stared at the brown package on the glass table. Usually, a package was not a concern. He often had deliveries coming into the house: some houseplants, a rug, maybe some books or even small things he had always wanted to buy but his mother had deemed useless and a waste of money. Now, with his freedom, he was able to purchase anything and everything he wanted. But this package, this package was a mystery. He had looked at his planner, who was sitting on the glass table beside the brown box and had nothing scheduled to be delivered today, but he had accepted the package anyway so as not to cause problems with the delivery man.

Maybe the package due tomorrow had arrived earlier, but it was too small to be his monitor or chair and too small to be his TV station. Those were the only deliveries he had for this week, so what was it?

He picked it up, bringing the small box to his ear and shaking it, trying to hear what the contents could contain. He heard the faint sound of what appeared to be a squelch, and he frowned, bringing the box down so he could see it again. He brought it to his ear and could hear the faint ticking sound. Ah, maybe it was his clock or his watch.

Just as he was about to cave in and finally open the package, he heard the slam of his door closing and the sharp patter of shoes hitting his stairs. He knew it was Oliver; his footsteps were always the quietest but the fastest, so he threw the package off to the side and would deal with that later. He stared at the entryway, and Oliver appeared with a scowl.

“The answer is no, good talk,” he deadpaned. As he turned on his heel to walk back up the stairs, Atlas sighed as he jogged over, stumbling over his light green rug and grabbed the shorter man’s arm.

“Come on,” Atlas said when he realised Oliver had stopped, and although he hadn’t turned to look back at him, he had paused, which was good enough, and he would make do with what was offered to him.

Oliver finally turned around, his monochromatic light brown outfit catching the little rays of sunlight shining in through the glass wall. He stared at the taller man, having to lean his head back a little, but his glare had settled down on his face. “I have it all planned,” Atlas continued, refusing to let go of his arm. He knew if he did, Oliver would run away. “You come with me; before you say anything, we can stay local. And if anyone asks, you’re my bodyguard and manager, and I will pay you.”

Oliver stared at his face for the longest time before he snatched his arm out of Atlas’s hand and stormed over to the sofa. He looked at the planner Atlas had left open on the table on his monthly calendar page. He picked it up stared at it before closing it and dropping it on the glass table with a dull thud.

Atlas sighed as he walked over and sat on the armchair, staring at the man. “In case you forgot,” Oliver deadpanned, finally looking away from the TV resting on a small table until his media unit came in. “You were in the hospital because some weirdo laced your food with foxglove, and you were a moron and ate the food. And despite them being your favourite, lilies-of-the-valley are also poisonous to some extent and they sent you those every single f*****g day. And you being a sentimental s**t didn’t get rid of them. And then I had to haul your ass to the emergency room and threaten it out of you. Now, what makes you think going back to work where I cannot keep an eye on you is smart?”

“But,” Atlas groaned, running his hands down his face as he leaned back in the chair, groaning. “I’m bored. And you could keep an eye on me if you accompany me as my manager and bodyguard.”

“Get a hobby,” Oliver deadpanned, ignoring everything else from Atlas’s mouth.

“My hobby is acting.”

“Get a different hobby. Start knitting.”

“Knitting?” Atlas scoffed.

“Knitting.”

“But,” he began, groaning.

“No.”

“Oliver.”

Atlas realised he was no longer looking at him. Oliver had his eyes glued on the package he had thrown to the side to have a look at later, and he was frowning as he stood up. He had not done as good of a job as he thought when he threw it to the side, hoping it would stay hidden. “What is that?”

“A package? I haven’t opened it yet,” Atlas said, waving his hand to get Oliver to focus on him, not the mysterious brown box.

Oliver walked over to it and picked the box up. His frown deepened as he moved the package to one hand and rubbed his fingers together before bringing the package to his ear and tapping his foot on the ground repeatedly. It didn’t take him long to realise he was tapping his foot following the ticking. “You’re not opening this either. Stay here.”

Oliver gently put the small brown box on the table and instructed Atlas to stand near the glass door as he ascended the stairs. Atlas sighed as he watched the box, his arms crossed over his chest, and then he heard his door open again, and then a large group of pitter patter on the stairs and soon Alec, Max, Ani, Amber, Matt, Alice, Helios and a man he didn’t recognise were standing before him.

Ah, s**t. He stared at Oliver, and he licked the inside of his cheek. They had a deal. Oliver may have been a man of many things, with little to no words with pleasant meaning to describe him, but he wouldn’t tell them. It had been part of their deal. God, he f*****g hoped he wouldn’t.

~*~