No One's Warrior

Chapter Two

I listen to Marcius' footsteps as he exits, gliding further down the hallway, I can tell, with every fall of his heavy boots. The sound is louder than it should be, filling the silence that he's left me in. Oddly enough, I don't mind the absence of noise. It's almost comfortable, even. But still, I feel myself turning back toward the way which I came to escape this hallway. Ever since Theia blessed me with her disturbing presence, I can't find peace here. Just standing by the window with her surface plain in sight, makes my nerves jump anxiously. I'd rather be smothered with my own thoughts and issues than stand around staring at my enemy. Besides, I miss the safety that I feel around Atum. I miss his embrace, and I miss his amber eyes. And so, I'm propelled down the hallway, however this time, I'm not walking blindly. No, this time I can see clearly.
I faintly remind myself that, due to my unconscious walk, I have no clue where I'm going, but I quickly dismiss it.
Finding my way back is the least of my worries. I'm sure I'll be too wrapped up in my thoughts anyway to pay attention. So, I have to rely on my inner compass to guide me back to my room.
Our room.
It's corny, but I feel a tingle when I say those words. I've never been in a relationship quite like this before now. The chance has never risen itself, considering that I live in a remote area, thousands of miles away from humanity. Plus, the only other life around besides me was Theia, Atum, and his sun warriors, which consequently, I ended up with one of them. Atum, being that one.
Slim pickings, obviously, but truthfully I wouldn't rather have anyone else by my side. I love Atum so much it physically hurts me to be away from him like this. Yet, I can't seem to stop. I keep leaving him high and dry like always, just for my own sake. How rude can I be? How selfish? A lot, apparently. Guilt runs through my veins like blood, slicing every part of me until I submit to its rule. I feel like a terrible person, a self absorbed person, who thinks of no one but myself. Its all about me lately. How I will handle things, how I will react when things happen. But, I've never stopped once to think of how Atum's feeling about this. I haven't even asked. My first real relationship and I feel as though I've already sent it on a one way trip to hell. The guilt becomes suffocating, but luckily, I reach the the handle of my door before it can override me.
Slowly, but surely, my hand grips the golden knob, turning it with such concentration that I'm sure it looks as if I'm not even moving. I'm afraid that if I move too fast, he will wake up. I hate that the sentence holds more symbolism than I'd like.
The ivory door creaks open, going as slow as a snail, and squealing with every inch.
For a minute, I fear that I will be greeted with a hazy Atum when I push the door open all the way, but instead when I crane my neck around, I spot him standing by the far wall.
He could be upset, but I can't be sure when his back is turned. I certainly hope he's not, but he's definitely noticed by now that I've disappeared.
My mouth opens to speak, but the words never come. Something else has caught my attention, distracting me from what I had planned on speaking.
And that something is the sight of Atum's bare back.
Foolish, I'm aware, but I can't help it.
Heat rushes up to my cheeks faster than I thought possible, staining them a dark red color. I almost wish to see them, to remind myself of what I used to be, but my feet are frozen in place. And my eyes are frozen too, but not to the ground. No, they're trained on the tan back of Atum. His muscles are are clearly defined, shifting with his movements, and highlighting a thin scar that runs across his right shoulder blade. It's jagged and long, but too faded to see from further distance. Briefly, I wonder how he got it, and reopen my mouth to ask, but he turns around to face me before I can. His sudden movement surprises me, however the scar stays on my mind and in my thoughts. I know he's been in quite a few brawls before, although, it only makes me realize how little I know about him and his past. Now more than ever, I wish I could remember the past we shared, and all the memories. It's the first time I've ever wished to have any of my human half, and that shocks me more than anything.
"Cresta? I was worried about you. I woke up and you were gone. Where did you run off to?" He questions, finishing his pivot, and facing me head on.
I shouldn't have been dumbfounded by the sight of his toned back, but if I wasn't then, I am now. His naked chest draws my eyes down from his face to his muscled stomach, making me appreciate just how well built he is. Butterflies flutter around in my stomach at the sight, making me blush even more than before. Nervously, I step in the room, my arm brushing against the doorframe and close the door behind me, shutting it with a satisfying click. In order to save some of my pride, I pry my eyes away from his body, not missing the thick gold chain around his neck, and up to his amber eyes that I've missed so much. I expect to find anger or confusion there, but I find none. The brute even has the gall to smirk at me, flashing his pearly whites and proving further just now perfect he is.
"What's the matter? Can't tear your eyes away?" He prods, chuckling at his own terrible joke.
I was wrong before when I said he was flawless.
He does have one flaw.
His arrogance.
He's not wrong, however, I can't argue with that. As much as I hate to admit it, he has a body that looks as though it was carved right out of stone itself. He's chiseled to say the least, and he has the looks to match. I feel proud to call him mine, but it also makes me a bit self conscious of myself. He's the epitome of perfection, with his dark hair, corresponding eyes, and his mischievous look. It's certainly enough to win anyone over, including me. But he's not just his looks.
Atum is sweet, funny, and he cares about me so much that it's obvious in everything he does.
"Of course not," I reply meekly, shrugging as if what he said was far from the truth. It's not, and we both know it.
"Are you sure?"
"Positive."
"Hmph, okay." He snorts, sending a sly grin my way before moving off to his right. I hadn't noticed before, but he slides opens door to reveal a closet filled with enough clothes to cover a small army. The majority of them are white, unsurprisingly.
"What was that?" I demand and cross my arms over my chest trying to look somewhat disinterested.
"What was what?" He asks, playing dumb whilst rummaging around on the racks for a shirt that seems like it will never be found. The hangers slide back and forth across the bar creating dim squeaks each time they do so, but that doesn't stop him from his endless searching. Curiously, I wonder if he's doing it to annoy me, but that's highly unlikely.
"You know what."
"Enlighten me."
"That sound you made."
He glances over at me with a satisfied smirk and an arched eyebrow that make me want to punch him and kiss him at the same time. I don't know how he does that. He makes me hate him and love him instantaneously. Seems like the mischievous looks aren't just for show.
"So, are you going to tell me?" His body turns as he talks, giving me a clear view of his chest without the intensity of his stare. His eyes are too trained on his closet to catch me scanning his body so shamelessly. It's truly not my fault. It's his for being so god damn irresistible. I think he's aware of what he's doing to me. Why else would he be waltzing around our room, wearing nothing but a pair of faded jeans that hang low around his waist? I make a mental note to get payback later. I suppose I could take action now, but I choose to stay still and admire him just a bit longer. A few more seconds, that's it.
"What are you talking about?" I ask, still staring at each of the muscles in his chest. I don't know when it happens, but suddenly I find myself staring at a deep mark embedded in his skin just below his collarbone. I can't make out what it is from here, it being too small, and I don't have a chance to find out, because he quickly turns back to me, demanding my attention, which I give willingly.
"I asked where you went." He says, returning my gaze before dropping his eyes down to the white shirt in his hands. To my despair, he unfolds the cloth and pulls it over his head, only giving me one last glance at his bare body before it gets covered by the treacherous material. I can't help but frown.
He truly is godlike.
"Oh, right. I uh... I just went for a walk."
"In the middle of the night? You were supposed to be sleeping."
At the mention of rest, my body goes unwillingly frigid, reminding me of the scandalous thoughts that had invaded my mind. I'd prefer to skip past that minor detail, but as I recall it, I look back up to Atum's face and notice how much better he looks. Rest has done him well, erasing the rings that had formed around his eye sockets and restored color to his naturally tan face. Overall, he looks as good as new. I wish I could say the same about myself. I also wish I could stop myself from fidgeting but I can't. My fingers pick at each other out of pure anxiety.
"Um, yeah, I just needed some air."
"Isn't there air in here?"
"I ran into Marcius."
It's his turn to go tense, this time at the mention of one of his warriors. I don't blame him. Last time he was informed, his people and I weren't exactly on the best terms, so he has a right to be skeptical. I wonder if he knows how Marcius has reacted to this overall situation of our relationship. Judging by the straight set line of his lips, I'd say not.
"And? If he said anything-" he starts, his tone getting more worried and upset by the second. I cut him off before he can fly off the handle.
"No, no. He actually was very... welcoming." I whisper, recalling the odd way he greeted me. It seems so long ago when it was only less than an hour. How time flies by when I'm trapped in a never ending cycle of surprises and confusion.
"He was?" He seems more shocked than he should be.
"Yes. He even said that he's never seen you so happy, as you were with me." I mumble that last part, unsure of whether or not to even say it. I'm not sure why I do, but I'm curious for his reaction. I know we love each other, however, this is a next step. I want to hear from his lips that it's true, not from his warriors mouth.
Atum's steps are quicker than the change in his features, and he's in front of me in an instant, closing the space between us until there is none. I don't hesitate to meet his eyes, having been in this situation before, but even so, he drags a finger under my chin and tilts my head up toward him. The stern and eagerness of his hand does not reflect the gentleness in his eyes.
"He's absolutely correct. Don't you ever doubt that for a second, Cresta. You are the best thing to ever happen to me, and you need to know that. You are beautiful and smart, and so god damn stubborn, you make my head spin. But I love that about you. I love everything about you. And I intend on spending the rest of my life with you, because whatever comes next we will do together. I have faith that we will eliminate him and Theia. We are strong together and we can do this. And if it makes you feel better, you can look at my body any time." We chuckle in unison at the last part, though mine is mostly out of fascination. That's another thing I don't understand. He went from being sappy to joking just like that, because he knew what to do. I can only try to be as perfect for him as he is for me.
"I love you, Atum." I stare back into his darkened eyes, knowing he meant every word, and so do I.
"I love you too, Cresta," he grins widely, clearly displaying the cheesiness of this moment with his foolishly satisfied eyes.
I hope with all my heart this isn't the last time we'll be together like this. It sounds hopelessly stupid, but I can't help but poke at that prodding voice in the back of my head that tells me we won't walk out of this alive. But even so, I choose to ignore it.
Like always.