Deliverance [malexmale]

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Okay, now I knew why that sounded ominous.

"And this one. This one will make your eyes pop." I winced at that description. I didn't want my eyes to pop. They were big enough as it was.

"Oh, and these ones. These ones will make you look taller, not that you need it. But everyone loves a tall man. I know I like my man tall." Akin continued on through the racks and kept throwing clothes at me until I felt as if I was going to fall over from the weight of them. What the hell was I supposed to do with all of these?

"Akin..." I started, trying to get his attention. Akin paused, touching a rack about ready to look at another shirt when he turned to look at me and his eyes widened. He laughed, touching his cheek in a dainty fashion that reminded me a lot of Clymene when she was flirting with Iapetus-- back when that was a thing.

"Oh, sweetheart, I'm so sorry about that. I get carried away sometimes. Let's try on what we have and see what else we can find afterwards." Afterwards? What happened to one outfit? I think I was beginning to understand why Hannibal didn't like shopping.

I sighed, frustrated as I followed Akin to the fitting rooms. I scowled at the size of them. How did they expect someone to fit in such tiny rooms? Even worse, all three walls inside were made of mirrors and the thought of being assaulted on three fronts by my own image made my skin crawl. Unfortunately, Akin was not having any of my refusals as he handed me several shirts and pants to try on.

"And I want to see what you look like in every single one, you hear me? Every. Single. One." Akin pushed me into the fitting room before I could argue and shut the door behind me. I instantly felt claustrophobic, holding my breath as I dropped my eyes to avoid my reflection, placing the clothing on the small bench.

Why did I have to do this? What was the point? I was going out to eat, once, with Arikos. He wasn't a prince, or a god, or anything else special. He was just Hannibal's cousin, a hybrid god... and a weirdo. Akin was making this out to seem a lot more special than it was. What I should be doing is figuring out where Tiberius was. The sooner I got rid of him, the better.

Once he was gone, I would have only one reason to exist-- help Hannibal destroy Atlan.

After everything was over... Well, if the battle itself didn't kill me, something would.

I closed my eyes as I grasped at that one thing that kept me going. In the end, none of this stuff would matter. None of these new clothes would matter. It was a waste of money to spend it on me. I could think of a dozen other things Akin could buy with his money. Still, I didn't want Hannibal to blow a gasket because I hurt Akin's feelings... and even though Akin drove me nuts, I also didn't want to hurt him either, and that infuriated me. Once upon a time, I wouldn't have a rat's ass about his feelings. Since my rebirth, I'd had to regain control of myself slowly over time. Even now, I had difficulty finding an outlet for my temper, so I had revived the daily ritual that made things bearable in the past, and just thinking about it made my wrists itch.

I pulled my shirt off over my head and hung it on one of the hooks over the mirrors, relieved to block my image. I paused at the sight of my forearms, marred by rows of cuts that ranged from one or two fingers in length. The only person who'd ever seen these marks had been Anexius, and thankfully the Atlantean had enough common sense to keep his damn mouth shut about them. Otherwise, it'd be a pity to have to bash his head in after all we went through to keep him and his lover safe.

I fingered on the of the more recent scars, which had become a light scar racing from one side of my wrist to the other. I cocked my arm, studying them for a moment before putting on one of the shirts. Thankfully, due to the snowy weather, Akin had only grabbed long sleeved shirts. The Fates had provided me with at least a bit of luck in that respect.