𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐀𝐋 |𝟏𝟖+|

𝐅 𝐎 𝐔 𝐑

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-　

✼ N E V A E H ✼　

I can't die like this, not yet at least. Just please, don't let me die. I'll do anything. You can get some head, whatever the hell it is you want, but don't let me die.  I don't know who that statement was directed to, whether it was God or the person pointing the gun to my head. 

But I don't flinch, not for a second. I know he isn't going to shoot me, he's bluffing. He hesitated before he took the gun out. Atlas is using this as a way for me to actually be scared. I can tell that he's that kind of person just by analyzing his behavior in the few hours I've known him.

He's the one that likes to inflict fear on someone just because they like the idea of someone being scared of them. Someone on their knees begging him for mercy. It's quite narcissistic if you ask me.

I didn't need his mercy, nor will I ever, so I wasn't going to be doing any form of begging. And I am definitely not getting down on my knees for this son of a bitch. Ever. Mark my fucking words. It's not like I'm going to see him again in my life after this is over.

"If I recall, you said that if I knew your last name you'd have to kill me. There was never anything about your first name, Atlas." I clarify, seeing his temper rise a bit more at the mention of his name.

Angering him more probably wasn't doing me any good, but what else could I do? If I just stood there balling my eyes out because I'm about to die, I'd look like a pussy. That isn't what I'm feeling right now. Speaking of that, is it a bad time to say that I really need to use the bathroom.

Spencer languidly gets off the bed, standing between where Atlas is and where I'm sitting. "Woah, woah, woah. Chill your titties, no one is killing anyone here. Except you, doctor, I'd let you do anything to me, even kill me." Down bad already?

No matter the current circumstance, he still has the time to be all charismatic. He's truly a ladies' man.

Atlas rolls his eyes, the gun still in his hands and my fingers still typing away on the keyboard, completely unbothered. Or at least trying to be. He's just jealous because he can't get on my level.

I wasn't typing anything useful at the moment, I just wanted to make noise with the keyboard, which I knew was pissing Atlas off. And was also somewhat calming my nerves and my anxiety.

"Don't make me repeat myself, Attie darling, I need a last name." I already knew what his response was and I was still ignoring the fact that there's a gun pointed at my head.

Atlas does another one of his eye rolls and slowly puts his gun away. His eyes are going to be stuck if he keeps doing that. Aww, I guess he had a change of heart. He's trying to be a better person and not an asshole.

"Looks like you repeated yourself. Does Hot Doctor Lady not know how to count?" He taunts.

I take that back.

But he called me hot. What am I, the sun? He shouldn't call me hot, he should say I'm beautiful. But at least he called me hot.

Spencer bursts into fits of laughter which I'm surprised that it doesn't hurt him that much because of his stitches. And I'm still struggling to understand what's so funny. It's probably the medication making him act that way.

"Did you just call her hot?"

Atlas remained silent, rolling his eyes while running his hands through his, now disheveled hair.

"I am hot," I say for myself, both of the brothers eyeing me up and down while I roll my eyes.

I print out the empty documents so that Atlas can fill them in, if he ever does. "Are you hungry, Spencer?" I ask, remembering that I still had some mac & cheese in one of the cupboards and some leftover lasagna from yesterday's potluck. I don't know why we called it a potluck when only one person made the food, but oh well, at least I ate.