Burn (Barlyle) (COMPLETE)

08

"Are you okay?"

Phillip jumped a mile high at the soft, gruff voice behind him. He slowly turned to face Barnum, who closed the door behind him and leaned against it.

"I thought you had a circus to run."

Only about twenty minutes had passed since their encounter in the tent.

"Lettie's taking care of things. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Phillip muttered, turning away. He took a deep breath, forcing air into his lungs, and closed his eyes.

Maybe if I close my eyes, he'll go away.

"I thought you were going to help Anne."

"She didn't need any help."

Keep them closed. He'll leave soon.

Heavy footsteps approached and Phillip visibly tensed. He gasped at the hand that grasped his shoulder, and finally turned to face the older man, opening his eyes.

"What do you want?" he sighed, slumping against a wall.

"I didn't mean to make you upset, Li—Phillip."

Phillip didn't say anything.

"You've been acting odd since the fire and I just wanted to make sure—"

"So have you," the younger man muttered.

Barnum blinked. He scratched the back of his head again, but this time his partner didn't flinch. "Excuse me?"

"You've been...avoiding me. Treating me like I..." Phillip hesitated. "Like I..."

"Like what, Phillip?" Barnum murmured.

"Like I don't exist."

Barnum took a step back and gazed down at the younger man. Their eyes met briefly before Phillip's flicked away.

The ringmaster felt more confused than ever. Did Phillip remember, or didn't he?

"I just want to know what I did wrong," Phillip muttered. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

Barnum frowned. "You didn't do anything wrong, Phil—"

The door burst open. Phillip let out a surprised cry, but it fell on deaf ears.

"There you are!" Anne's brother, W.D. Wheeler, burst into the room and seized Phillip by the arm. "You're almost up! Come on!"

Wheeler practically dragged Phillip away. Barnum followed at a distance. Phillip looked over his shoulder at Barnum, blue eyes dark with hurt.

Why? they asked.