《Sun Child |✔|》|19|
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Whatever makes you feel the sun from the inside out-
chase it.
***
Atlas pulls up.
He give a critical eye to me.
I'm laying on the grass, gasping and wheezing with Jay smiling over me.
Maybe it was halfway through, when I decided that the work out was easier when I was swearing my mouth off like a sailor.
Maybe it was then that Jay decided he liked me.
Because as the first string of cuss words left my mouth, he paused, his eyes wide as he took in my long profanities, before he doubled over, laughing and laughing, until tears were almost threatening to escape from his eyes.
"Hey Atlas," he waves over to his son, his smile still there as he stands over me.
Atlas walks over.
Now both males are standing, looking down at me.
"She's got quite a mouth."
Atlas's head jerks to his father, his eyes wide, "What, her mouth? What about it?"
Jay pauses a second, staring at his son, before he doubles over in laughter again.
I'm to tired to process the conversation. Instead I just lay there, groaning and trying desperately to catch my breath.
"I mean, when you push her, her language is worse than Lilah's and Quinn's combined."
Atlas raises an eyebrow in surprise. It's the same eyebrow that he has a small scar on.
"Come on Lexie, let's go."
"I can't move."
He pauses for a second, staring down at me.
I look up at him with pleading eyes.
Sighing he bends down and scoops me up, folding me into his chest.
I gasp at the contact, making him press me closer to him. I don't know if I'm shivering from the physical exhaustion, the contact with my mate, or the fear of skin touching my skin.
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"Hey Atlas," Atlas pauses and I see his eyes close in exhaustion. I want to reach up and touch his cheek. To my surprise and mortification, I find that I do. His eyes open as he takes in the sight of his mother, standing on the porch.
"It's good to see you."
Jay is nervously standing at the foot of the steps eyeing the two.
Atlas doesn't say a word. Instead he looks down at my hand that his holding his cheek. Looks in surprise at the contact.
I bite my lip, restraining myself from saying another word.
Atlas turns his back to the woman on the porch, "Bye Daisy. See you later Dad."
I hear a gasp come from Daisy. I look over Atlas's shoulder to see her smiling. Smiling from the fact that he acknowledged her.
Gently Atlas puts me into the passenger seat of the truck, even going as far as to buckle me in.
Going around, he puts himself next to me, in the driver's seat.
I take one last glance out, watching as Jay climbs the steps, smiling up at his mate.
"I guess they told you then."
I glance at Atlas.
His grip is tight upon the steering wheel, knuckles white.
"Your mom told me she...wasn't really around."
A low growl forms in Atlas's chest, "That woman is not my mother."
"Oh."
It's all I can say.
My thoughts are sluggish from lack of water and from the pressing workout Jay put me under. My arms feel like lead. Like weights have been added to them. It takes all my effort to just roll my head to the side and look at Atlas. Examine him as he drives us back to the pack house.
"Your dad is cruel."
That brings a smile to his face.
"He said your language was horrible," the idea has Atlas laughing, "I just can't picture it."
I laugh with him, remembering Jay's shocked face.
He glances down at my hands, "This morning when I came to get you...were you painting?"
I hesitate. I don't know what the correct answer is, but I decide to be truthful.
"Yes."
He nods.
Just a nod.
No other word is spoken between us as a comfortable silence fills into the truck.
I close my eyes, resting my head against the seat belt, and falling asleep to the dull roar of the engine.
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Raine
Round in circles, and right back to square one. They were, to each other, but a memory lost of remembrance. The mind forgot... will the heart remember? • very slow updates • slow plot development • Note that this work is also hosted on WP by me. This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, business establishments, locales or persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental. All Rights Reserved © 2018 by Wynne W.Y.W. All rights reserved. No part of this story can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without express permission in writing.
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