Sebastian departed from the pond as the crisp air caressed his skin like a lover. Goosebumps begin to form all over his body. He carefully laid the lifeless fish on the ground, grabbed the neatly folded clothes, and dressed himself.
His clothes became drenched upon making contact with the flesh and stuck to his skin. He grabbed the fish off the ground and strode back toward the firewood and Atlas.
He noticed them in the distance along with the smoke emitting out of the flames into the sky. He approached closer where he could feel the heat on his face.
Atlas turned his neck at the approaching footsteps and his face turned delighted at the sight of a dead fish.
Sebastian tilts his head as he asks, "I hope you like fish?"
Atlas replied with a broad grin, nodding. "I do."
Sebastian's gaze narrowed at the small reddish and blackish marks on Atlas's back.
They had spread from his upper back to his lower back. "Why didn't you tell me you had bruises on your back? I could put some medicine on your back. Was it from that shape-shifter?"
One of the Atlas's arms reaches behind his back. His face contorted as he hissed. He said through clenched teeth, "It wasn't a big deal. It would heal on its own."
Sebastian knelt on the dry soil, staying a safe distance from the flames emitting a reeking unpleasant smell of smoke.
He placed the fish on his side and he raised his hand to his shoulder. Atlas gasped sharply and cursed, "Damn. Your hands are cold."
Sebastian chuckles with amusement "Of course, they'd be cold, fool. I just finished bathing and I brought you dinner. You might as well thank me."
Atlas rolled his eyes at the remark and questioned, "Why should I thank you? I didn't ask you to do anything for me. You did that completely on your own."
Sebastian's face twitched a couple of times and narrowed his gaze at Atlas's bruised back. His hand reached out to tug his ear, causing Atlas to grunt in pain.
"Hey, showing a little gratitude won't hurt you," he said with narrowed eyes.
Atlas reached out to push away his icy fingers while massaging his sore ears that turned bright red. He groaned with a flickering annoyance in his voice. "Alright. Alright. T–Thank you."
Sebastian's lips curled into a playful smile. "See? That wasn't so difficult."
Sebastian lets his sharp eyes assess his bruised back.
His entire back displayed significant pink, black, and red swelling. Yet, the linear streaks on his back couldn't hide the scars beneath the recent swelling.
His entire back looks ghastly and the excruciating pain he must have endured was evident.
His icy fingers gently traced over the bruised flesh, which had trails of goosebumps where his fingers made contact. Atlas hissed as his back tensed.
Sebastian inquired softly, "Does it hurt?"
Atlas replied through gritted teeth. "Of course not. I'm not weak."
Sebastian knits his brow as he asks curiously. "Why would you think you're weak? Expressing your pain doesn't make you weak. It makes you a human. No one is truly immune to pain."
Atlas responded in a muffled tone, "My father always said men shouldn't cry and should toughen up."
Sebastian observed the cords visibly bunched in his neck. His words ignited a familiar rage within him.
I really want to kill his bastard father. Too bad he's dead.
He reflected on what he heard and said with his head cocked, "Your father sounds like a douchebag. Do you want to know what I think? What have I learned over the years?"
There was a moment of silence for a while before Atlas pursed his lips and asked, "What?"
Sebastian said with a hidden smile, where Alas couldn't see. "When we deny our emotions, they own us. Our society and culture had conditioned us to believe that vulnerability is a weakness, so we were taught to deal with anger, rage, and denial."
Sebastian lips his dry lips as he continues.
"However, owning our pain often means getting angry or crying because it shows we can build and find our way through the challenges."
"That's why you shouldn't keep everything bottled up inside; it's part of life and should be processed, which means it shouldn't be seen as weakness or something to be ashamed of."
Atlas fell silent as he asked, "Do you ever cry?"
Sebastian was taken aback by the question. He couldn't remember the last time he shed tears. Anytime he feels hurt, he usually feels numb and lashes out at the world.
That is why he enjoys hurting people because it soothes the rage simmering inside, but he doesn't need to reveal that.
He said with a smirk, "Not for a long time."
Atlas turned around with his lips pursed, "If you haven't cried in ages. Why should I?"
Sebastian narrowed his gaze. What a stubborn and manipulative little bastard.
He shakes his head with an amused sigh, "Fool. I'm over five hundred years old, so I've cried several times in my lifetime. I suppose my emotions just became numb over the years. You are merely fifteen years old–"
Atlas interjected, "I'm almost sixteen. I'm not a boy–"
Sebastian lets out a snort before locking eyes with him. "When I'm speaking, don't cut me off. Pay attention to what I'm saying. You're still a boy. I'll consider you an adult around twenty to twenty-five, but you're nowhere even close to it. Don't try to bullshit me about not being a child."
Atlas clenched his jaw tightly, prompting Sebastian to give another snort, "You got something to say to me?"
Atlas glares at him with glowering eyes and then he shakes his head. He said softly, but his voice betrayed his reluctance. "No."
Sebastian pinched his nose while he sighed with frustration. "That's what I thought."
His fingers extended to seize the dead fish lying on the ground. He said with a nonchalant smirk, "I hope you know how to gut a fish?"