𝙰 𝙽𝚎𝚠 𝙵𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍

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Side Note: To all of those who were expecting a chapter from Lily's POV, I am tremendously sorry. I've tried writing it a couple of times but it just doesn't fit, and I get insecure about the chapter and don't want to publish it. I'm really sorry if I'm being disappointing, but we're going to continue from Atlas's POV for a tiny bit.

***

Atlas: Hey, Lily, sorry for not replying. My phone was on silent and I didn't realise how late it got. I hope you didn't get too worried. And don't worry, I'll make up for that lunch. I'll be home around ten, or maybe a bit later. 

Just as I finished texting Lily for the fourth time, Amy tapped my shoulder.

"Do you wanna grab a cup of coffee?"

Should I go out with her for coffee? I mean, I could use caffeine right now. I was really tired and Lily apparently ignoring my messages weighed on me too. Besides, Amy was perfectly good company, and there was nothing wrong with a cup of coffee.

There was a bit of guilt nagging me, but I pushed it to the back of my mind. Lily had 'boy' friends too. Like her old work friend, Devin. Were Amy and I friends? I don't know. We've only known each other a day, but she seems pleasant.

"Sure, let's go." I replied, putting on my grey jacket. She picked up her purse and put on her coat, and I allowed her to go out first before following her. 

"There's a really nice café nearby, we can go there if you want." she said when we reached exited the restaurant. 

"Alright, why not?"

I put my hands in my pockets and we set of walking down the street, the wind whipping my face and making my hair fly around a bit.

"Where did you learn to cook?" she asked me.

"Nowhere, I learned myself. I did practice as a chef in the Marines though, so that might count."

"Why do you like cooking?"

I contemplated her question. I remembered Lily asking a similar question, and what I replied. I didn't all together feel comfortable sharing it with Amy, but I had no other answer.

"When I was little, my mother often was out working shifts, and I had to make food for myself. Or else I'd starve. So I remember buying a cookbook at a yard sale when I was thirteen, and then I made all of the recipes in it over the course of a year. It helped me keep my mind off things. I felt...content, in a way. I didn't have much growing up, but when I cooked, I was in control of what I did, I guess. And that made me feel like I could take the reins of my life and steady it too."

She was quiet for a while, and I didn't know how to take that.

"Wow. I didn't expect such a deep backstory. That's really amazing, what you did. And, umm...we may not know each other well, but I know you do have the reins of your life now. Look at your restaurant. Your friends. You have a lot now, no matter if you didn't back then." 

Her words startled me, but then a warmth spread through my chest and a smile flicked across my face. 

"What about you? How'd you take an interest in cooking?" I asked. She looked up at me, surprised, before regaining her composure. It looked like she was mulling over my question.

"I don't know, really. I just liked it. I've always been a foodie. I guess the fact that my mother died when I was born and my father never really took care of me compelled me in some way, since I've been cooking for myself for as long as I can remember."

My reply was cut short by us arriving at the said café. It was really cute, I guess, with all the twinkling lights and potted plants. Inside was a cozy atmosphere, and there were a lot of people, talking and mingling with each other. We took a booth at the corner, where the music from the speakers was a bit fainter and the buzz of people was less too. 

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