Burn (Barlyle) (COMPLETE)

13

Phillip's eyes were wide and dark with tears. His lower lip trembled. Barnum gaped at him for a moment before taking a breath, composing himself.

"You were conscious," Barnum murmured, taking a step forward. "When I came in after you, you were pinned under a beam and were screaming yourself raw. But you were awake. Alert."

Phillip nodded, silent. He wrung his hands together in front of himself.

"You saw me and you went hysterical. Remember that? You bawled. I got the beam off of you—right as some others collapsed."

Phillip sank to his knees on the floor, hands pressed against his eyes. Then they dropped to cover his mouth as if to keep from getting sick.

"Despite not being able to move underneath that beam, you didn't break anything. Your side was scorched, though. You shouldn't have been able to walk at all. Except—"

Phillip moaned into his hands.

"You lurched yourself up and flung yourself at me. Remember?" His voice was low. Soothing. He'd touch Phillip if he could, maybe rub his back, but he didn't want to startle the other man. "You managed to muster up your last ounces of strength before you passed out for good. And you...do you remember what happened next, 'Lip?"

Tears streamed down Phillip's face. Last night, he'd been cocky, loud, as he relayed the story to Barnum, but not now. Now all he could do was sit in silence and take the blow Barnum was about to force upon him.

He knew why Barnum had been avoiding him. If he were Barnum, he'd avoid himself too.

"You kissed me, 'Lip. You kissed me right before blacking out in my arms."