Atlas always had a strained relationship with his father, but seeing his empty face at his funeral concerned you even more.

Back at your house, trying to cheer him up, you were in the middle of a make-out session. Atlas had always been strict about you seeing or touching his back, and you always complied.

Yet today, in the heat of the moment, it escaped your mind. One of your hands slithered down his shoulder, but it soon froze at the rough feeling.

He was covered in scars.