Re: Dream: Janus/Atticus
"Dad would talk about that over breakfast. Pass the jam. What would we do if war broke out? Send Atticus to Canada." Wasn't embellishment. Historian parents had discussions like that. "Pass the salt. Should we build a bomb shelter? Atticus, go hide under your desk. That's how they did it back then." Awake, Atticus hardly ever talked about his parents. Was strange, thinking about them now. "Go get 'em is romanticism. History is always romantic. Wasn't actually that way. Henry VIII was a despot tyrant. Now they make movies, documentaries, and fictionalized novels about his red curls." Irrelevant. He was babbling.
The approach made Atticus jerk back slightly. Tension. Reactive. Something that would never have happened before the vampire. Atticus was too lazy to ever be quickly reactive. "Sorry." Hands raised. Apology. "Answers that, doesn't it?" He rubbed one of those hands over the sweaty curls on the back of his neck. "Sit. Won't run." A pause. Longer than Atticus' long, conversational pauses. "Was you?" Halloween. Not the vampire. Knew Janus wasn't the vampire. Hadn't lost that much blood. "Course it was you. God, I want a fucking smoke."