Atlas

ᴛʜɪʀᴛʏ-ꜰᴏᴜʀ

Atlas and I haven't really been talking after we've eaten together (I found out pizza isn't on the no-go list). I still believe he is playing with me, but at the same time...Atlas isn't the type to play games.

Yes, Atlas can be an asshole. He can be selfish, arrogant. Most of the time, Atlas is a cold-hearted dickhead that doesn't care about anyone else, including their feelings.

Which is exactly why I have my doubts, why I doubt he's playing me.

If Atlas didn't care, why the hell would he confess to loving me? It'd only complicate everything, and he's the type that doesn't want complications. Definitely not when it comes to people, at least.

So...Atlas Storm is in love with me, huh?

"Do you think he's upset I haven't said it back?" I ask Taco as though he would answer me.

Taco wags his tail, being ready for either cuddles or me throwing his toy. I'd assume he prefers the latter.

Atlas has been in his office for the past hour, working. He should have just stayed at work, honestly. I mean, I love that he's home, but obviously he should be at work.

I pet Taco, cuddling him for a short while before I struggle to get back onto my feet and wobble over to Atlas's office.

The door is closed, though I know if I called for him, he'd still hear it. If he didn't, Atlas wouldn't have closed the door.

I knock on his door, entering a second later because I know he wouldn't tell me to go away. I was being polite with knocking, and still Atlas has the audacity to ask, "Why did you knock?"

"Cause you're working."

He sets his phone down on his desk, giving me his full attention. "I don't care. Next time, just walk right in and don't waste your time knocking."

Okay, noted. Be disrespectful, he likes that.

"Can you drive me to the cemetery? Only if you're not too busy, of course." I fidget with my fingers as I ask. "I kind of want to..." speak to my dead mother.

"Yeah, I'll drive you. Are you ready to go or do you need to get ready first?" He stands from his chair, closing his MacBook before he makes his way over to me.

-♡-

Atlas is waiting in the car, which I'm thankful for. I don't think talking to your dead mother by her grave is something your more-or-less fake husband should listen to. Who knows, he might call me crazy if he heard my conversations with her.

"Hi, mum," I say, slowly trying to sit down in my usual spot. When Cody and I got to decorate her grave, Drew allowed us each a wish. One thing we wanted this grave to have. I wanted a stone slab big enough to sit on, just so I could come here and speak to my mother.