To Write Love on His Arms

It's been a month since we saw Isaiah. But Atticus hasn't changed. Every single time I touch him he flinches and moves away from me. When Lyn barks at him he pushed himself up against something. When I call his name he cowers near me. At night he tosses and turns constantly and when ever he does fall asleep, I don't.

I don't sleep because I make myself endure hearing his small whimpers and pleas for whoever is in his nightmare to stop. I force myself to stay awake and make sure he's doing okay. And when things do become too much I'm right by him, rubbing his back and calming him like his mother had instructed me so long ago and it never fails.

It breaks my heart to see him like this, the one I love be so afraid. Atticus afraid of me. It pains me so much but I remind myself its not me he's afraid; it's what anyone is capable of doing. He fell so hard for another man, he gave him everything only to be stabbed in the back. I can't blame him.

I wrap my arms tightly around his small body, relieved when he nuzzles his head into my chest instead of whimpering. He's so fucking fragile it's unbelievable. Sometimes I'll reach out to caress his cheek and he turns his face away and closes his eyes, as if bracing himself to get hit.

I though this was done, I thought he'd gotten over this, but apparently he didn't. I helped him climb the mountain so much only to have him miss his step and fall down into a dark valley threatening to eat him alive.

"Atticus." I cooed in his ear, kissing his head and enjoying when he smiled. Only when he was asleep like this would he smile. This was the only moment I could get him to relax and stay at ease. Even then though it was rare when I coaxed him into this state. "My sunshine." I cooed again, running my fingers through his hair. Atticus hold on my tightened, "June."

I grinned.