Not So Delicate ||18+|| ✔️

Zachary ~27~

Atticus walked back into the office after a few minutes, giving us a slight shrug.

"Do you guys think she'll say yes?" I ask, slumping onto the couch. I put my arm over my eyes and sighed.

"I honestly don't know. I couldn't get a good read on her." Callan murmured, sitting on the office chair. Atticus grunted as he sat on the smaller chair that Brooklyn sat in.

Silence blanketed the whole room. I couldn't help but think back to the gorgeous girl that was in here. I could feel the absence of her presence the moment she left. It felt so empty in here despite the other two men.

She's torn into two. We all knew that. One side wanted to leap towards the opportunity, the other half wanted to lock her up to keep her from harm.

Her mind was all over the place, that's why Callan couldn't read her properly. And he can read anyone. I know it humbled him, not being able to get a grasp on where her mind was at.

Then I remembered her interaction with Atticus.

"She saw your dimples?" I ask him, looking at him with a teasing smirk.

"I will hurt you." He glowered. I chuckle and sit up, running my hand through my hair. Callan was at his desk, looking off into the distance.

"What are you thinking about?" I ask him, leaning back on the couch. He looks at me and shakes his head, running his hand over his face.

"You know how she's always spacing off?" He asked, standing up and going to the wide bookshelf. I nod, seeing Atticus turn his head to watch Callan. "It's a defense mechanism. Well, to some people."

"How so?" Atticus grumbles, furrowing his eyebrows. Callan pulls out a book and flips through the pages, scanning it thoroughly.

"I remember reading about it... I don't think it's in any of these books though." He sighs and puts it back before sitting beside me.

"Stop stalling and just talk." I huff, crossing my arms.

"Awh, is the poor little baby frustrated?" Callan mocked, making me scowl. They always teased me about being the youngest of them. Even though each of us had small year gaps. I was 28, Callan 30, and Atticus 32, turning 33 in a few months.

"Want your bottle?" Atticus taunted, a smirk on his face. I glare at them both and roll my eyes.

"Sorry grandpa, I'll go get you your oatmeal." I bite back, making Atticus roll his eyes this time. "As you were saying."

"Right. Some people tend to space out in order to distract themselves from feeling a certain emotion or even trying to block out something harmful." Callan says, leaning his elbows on his knees.

"She used to space out a lot when I asked study-based questions." I add on, making him nod to himself.

"It's also a way for them to remember something that happened a while ago. However, she spaces out randomly. Could just be a short attention span." He mumbled, thinking to himself.

"No." Atticus shakes his head. We look at him for a further explanation, but to no surprise, he stays quiet and shrugs.

"I think she's just conflicted. Not many people take this topic lightly. Brooklyn seems like an understanding person, but, we can never know for sure." I say, sighing softly.

Silence washes over us once again. Each to our own thoughts. The silence was broken by a small knock on the door. I looked towards it cautiously. I glance at Atticus and Callan, seeing them stare at the door also.

I stand and walk towards it, opening it slightly. The smell of her perfume slapped me in the face, making me open the door wider for her.

"Hi there... Did you forget something?" I ask, wondering why she was back. Not that I was complaining or anything. My eyes finally focused in on the painted mask she wore. Be still my heart.