"Probably somewhere shady.ā
At slides his gaze Louisā way and arches an eyebrow. āFrom you, then?ā Though, surprisingly, he doubts it. Louis Price is the first person Atlas would go to if he needed something off the beaten path and sold by the cost of innocence, but a gun doesnāt exactly taste like his friends particular brand of misfortune. Oh, Louis can admire the carnage itās caused, certainly. But it doesnāt seem like heād provided it.
No, most likely Cass had batted his pretty eyes and used his sweet smile to his advantage. Manipulative move. Regardless of what Big Brother said, the youngest Aisling was like them deep, deep down. Just a little too selfish. Just a little twisted.
Louis isnāt paying him any mind anyway. His gaze is locked on the mess Cass has created, but heās seeing through lenses Atlas himself doesnāt have. Art. Heās locked in on the scene like an Italian Renaissance painter with a voluptuous woman. Entranced. Bewitched. Creepy fucker. Louis turns his bright blue gaze on him and his mouth splits into the kind of grin a horror movie director would jerk off to.
Atlas just shakes his head and watches Louis go when he twists away, knowing full well heāll come back with a camera. Whatever.
āyou should really toss drowning his way. I hear itās a lot cleaner.ā
Out of the three of them, Ryder looks the most bothered. Atlas wished it was because of the state of his floors but, unfortunately, no one else seems to share in his burden of having nice fucking things. He wasnāt sure just what about it scraped against Ryderās nerves. Not the gore. Maybe just the fact that it was Cass?
Honestly, Atlas was surprised heād gotten used to seeing their friend as a corpse himself. He still had nightmares about the way his body had hung from that goddamn tree; but never about blood spatter or brain matter. Perspective, he supposed. Real versusā¦.well, it was still real, it just wasnāt permanent. That seemed to make a difference.
āI think heās starting to go for quick over clean.ā Not that any of Cassā attempts so far had been clean per say, but this one is definitely the worst. For fucks sake, the walls were white. Atās probably going to have to repaint and he hates that. Itās a lot of goddamn work.
Louis slides his way back in, camera poised, but Atlas ignores him while he waits, arms folded and anger barely dissipated.
He can always feel it. The moment that Cassā soul realigns with his body. Itās not exactly something he can put into words, and itās not exactly comfortable. It makes his fingers tingle with pinprinks, and his ears buzz a little. Heās not sure if power or just. Something dead.
The shift is always fascinating to watch because itās fluid. Easy to miss, almost, if he wasnāt paying attention. Nails make claws, Cassā jaw ripples with the addition of new teeth, black slowly takes over the color of his hands, up his arms, seeping into his veins. Heās something more other than them. Something more wrong in the natural state of things.
Atlas thinks itās kind of amazing.
Thinks Cass is kind of amazing.
He almost forgets for a moment that heās so goddamn pissed.
Cassā black eyes open slowly and Atlas feels his back go tense. He never knows how Cass is coming back. In control or not, or something halfway in between. Itās trial and error and they havenāt been doing this that long. Regardless, heās learned to be prepared in case Cass flies at him. Those teeth are no fucking joke.
Cass is up too fast to be human, dipped in a crouch that reminds Atlas of things he used to see lurking in the shadows as a kid, or smiling at him from under his bed. The curls are still Cass, the nerdy fucking glasses are still him, but thereās Ghoul too. Dark and scary and hungry.
Atlas is aware Cass is deadly like this, but thereās very little Self Preservation warnings going off in his head. Heās not sure why. Rather itās because heās an idiot, or because he trusts Cass, or because he trusts himself enough to handle it if it gets out of hand. Either way, between one cold heartbeat and the next, he knows Cass could rip his throat out if he wanted to.
But thereās a shift, a relaxation of his stance into something just a little more human. He flashes them a smile thatās all Cassidy and even though itās filled with razor sharp teeth itās still not as dangerous as Louisā somehow. "Ah, sorry guys.ā
āYou should be fucking sorry,ā Atlas seethes as he drops into a graceful squat in front of the suicidal little brat. āDo you have any idea how long this is going to clean up? Youāre kidding yourself if you donāt think Iām going to make you help. Go on, eat Cassidy, because youāre fucking mine when youāre done.ā
Cassā control is slipping, much more interested in the raw bloody steak next to him. Atās not sure he heard one goddamn word. Atlas watches his greedy little fingers dig into that meat and sighs as he pushes himself back up. He throws an arm around Ryder and Louisā shoulders, dragging them from the room. āCāmon, letās let the kid enjoy his meal and make an even bigger mess.