Phillip came to, gasping. He rolled to his side to throw up when he realized - he was moving. And looking out a window. And what were those - hoofbeats?
Phillip lurched up and hung his head out the window, gagging as he got sick. He was still half-drunk, the alcohol he'd consumed enough to last him awhile, but he jolted at the feel of a hand on his back. He spit out the last of the bile and wiped his mouth before backing into the carriage.
"It's all right," a smooth voice murmured, "we're going home. It's okay."
"Barnum?" Phillip' slurred. His vision blurred as he turned his head and made eye contact with the older man, who smiled soft at him. Phillip winced, but couldn't remember - was he mad at the man for something? Why did he feel so weird?
Barnum tilted his head, his face blurring in Phillip's hazy vision.
"You were out cold when I found you, 'Lip. Drank yourself half to death. Take it easy."
Phillip groaned and laid back down, head unknowingly in Barnum's lap. He felt something strange in his hair - but before he could register what that feeling was, his vision faded out again. He groaned.
"It's all right." Barnum's voice fell away the more his grasp on consciousness slipped. "I've got you."
YOU ARE READING
Burn (Barlyle) (COMPLETE)
أدب الهواةPhillip pushes Barnum away after the fire. Barnum struggles with what to do about the secrets of that night.
