If I Stay✔️

90

trigger warning; mentions of mental illness & m*rco

L E O

I stared across the table at Atlas, pretending to listen as he rambled on, with unnecessary hand actions, about some new indie band he was in love with. From what I did pick up, they didn't sound half bad. Maybe even something I'd listen to, Oliver would like them, I was sure. I'd have to remind myself to tell him.

"The lead guitarist is a beast," Atlas continued in awe, proceeding to show everyone who was listening a video of said guitarist. I drowned him out, my whole attention on my three very silent and pale brothers.

Neither Jack or Ace would meet my eyes. Alex though? He had no issues. He stared at me unblinking, face blank, quirking his eyebrow as if to say what? I frowned. His nonchalance made my stomach fill with uneasy, it made me question myself. Maybe I was reading too much into it, maybe that look didn't pass the way my eyes had seen? Or, maybe, this was just my mind playing tricks on me for the millionth time. Who knows.

I removed my eyes from my brother, dropping them to my lap where Emilio's hand rested, tightly tangled with my own. I brushed my thumb along his knuckles, feeling the roughness of his skin beneath my fingertips.

"What'd you do to your knuckles?" I questioned him, speaking softly as not to draw attention.

He turned to me, tilting his head as he followed my eyes. "Oh," he squeezed my hand reassuringly. "Nothing really. I took up boxing and forgot to put on gloves before hitting the bag. Lemme tell you, that bitch is rough."

"Boxing?" I raised an eyebrow, deciding not to question why he wouldn't put on boxing gloves to box. "Since when do you box?"

"Whatever do you mean?" He feigned shock, as if my assumption was astonishing. "I'm athletic, amore. Of course I box."

"Box?" Enzo cut in, chuckling under his breath as he stared at Emilio with a smirk. "Can hardly call what you do boxing, Em."

Emilio rolled his eyes, glaring at his brother half heartedly. "Don't shit talk out of jealousy now, fratello."

"He's got a point," Elliot thew his pizza crust onto the plate and leaned back in his seat. Emilio looked proud for a second, that was until Elliot's stare turned sympathetic. "Enzo I mean, not you, Em. You'd be lucky if you could even bruise Ati with those things you call punches."

"Hey, why me?" Atlas looked offended. "I know my reflexes are fire and all, but don't give Milo any ideas."

We stared at him blankly. Atlas was the type to drip over air, his reflexes were nonexistent.

"I wouldn't punch you." Emilio reassured after a split second of hesitation. That was quite a promise to make. I'm not a violent person, but, sometimes, Atlas' face was very punchable.

Enzo snorted. "Wouldn't punch you and couldn't land a punch, are too very different things."

"I could punch him!"

"You just said you wouldn't punch me!" Atlas jumped from his seat and took a step back, hiding behind Luke's chair as he raised his hands defensively. "Don't punch me!"

"I'm not going to," Emilio rolled his eyes. "I just mean I could if I wanted to."

"I don't believe you, you're looking at me like you want to punch me." Atlas gripped Luke's forearm, pulling him from his chair as he used him as a human shield. "Save me, Lulu. Protect me from this animal."