Taste of Iron

Forty Four: iloveatlas69

Forty Four: iloveatlas69

"Okay, I'm ready," Emil stated as he rolled up his sleeves, a determined expression on his face as he looked around the apartment. "Where do we start from?"

"Huh?" Atlas tilted his head in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I mean which room do you want to start packing first? Maybe I can do the living room and you can do the kitchen so that we can cover a wider ground and—"

"Oh!" Atlas interrupted as he began walking to his bedroom. "I'm already done."

"Wait—" Emil followed behind him. "What do you mean you're done? There are no boxes or— What is this?"

"All my stuff," Atlas answered.

"That's... it?" Emil stared blankly at the two suitcases next to the chef. They were big, but they weren't that big. There was no way in hell that all of his things fit in there.

"There's a duffel bag too but I already kept that in my car," Atlas added, shrugging casually. "I don't really have a lot of stuff."

"You don't say," Emil muttered, furrowing his brows. "You sure you don't want to take anything else? What about... what about the couch?"

"It won't exactly go with your furniture," Atlas retorted.

"Then I'll get all new furniture to match with your couch," Emil said as if it was the most logical solution. At this point, Atlas wasn't even surprised.

"It's not mine. It belonged to the tenants before me. I don't even know how old it is, so no thanks, it's staying here," Atlas explained. "Also how did you find someone to sublet the place so fast?"

Atlas's lease wasn't up for another two months, so he had to find a new tenant. But Emil said that he would take care of it and he did.

Within eight hours. 

Atlas was convinced Emil wasn't human.

"Don't ask a magician to reveal his secrets, please," Emil smirked. "Even though said magician is head over heels for you and would even reveal his Instagram password just to you. It's iloveatlas69—"

"Okay! Okay! I don't wanna know," Atlas cut him off, exhaling deeply as he shook his head. "You can keep your secrets and passwords to yourself."

"You sure you don't want to read the messages from the babes that slide into my dms every day?" Emil questioned, a teasing smile on his lips but Atlas wasn't going to fall for it.

"I would, but my screentime is usually spent scrolling through the random dick pics in my requests so I don't have a lot of ti—"

"Who the fuck is sending you unsolicited dick pics? Give me their names," Emil spoke. "I'm going to chop their balls off and feed them to—"

"I was kidding!" Atlas chuckled. "Nobody's sending me shit. Haven't you seen my profile? I have one picture of myself, that too from five years ago."

"It's a cute picture," Emil muttered.

"Sure."

The two of them grabbed the suitcases as they began walking out. Atlas looked around the place, and a part of him couldn't believe that he had spent almost a year living there. It felt too short and too long at the same time.

It was a weird feeling. When he had moved away from home for the first time, he was nervous and scared. He had never not lived with his family and he was going to go thousands of miles away to an unknown city. But the city was not unknown anymore, and Atlas was now going somewhere he already felt at home in.