The sky was a soft gradient of dusky pinks and deep purples, the last traces of daylight still clinging to the edges of the horizon. Dusk had barely settled, the air cool and crisp, with a quiet stillness that wrapped around us like a thin blanket. The river stretched out beside us, its surface catching the final glimmers of fading light, shimmering like liquid gold in the half-dark. A thin mist lingered just above the water, shifting slowly with the breeze, obscuring the far shore. It was tranquil. Peaceful. A sharp contrast to the storm brewing inside me.
I took a sip of my coffee, the warmth of it spreading through me as I watched Atlas do the same, his gaze somewhere far off. For a moment, neither of us spoke. The silence wasn't uncomfortable, but it was heavy—like there were too many unsaid things just hanging in the air between us, weighing us down.
"Are you going to talk to Emma's mum?" he asked finally, his voice low and cautious. He turned his head slightly to look at me, his eyes reflecting the dim light of the evening. "Ask how Emma's doing?"
I swallowed, feeling the question settle uncomfortably in my chest. I didn't need to read him to feel his emotions right now. They were written all over his face—nervousness, hesitation, and something deeper, more raw. Fear, maybe. It was all wrapped up in the tightness of his shoulders, the way his fingers clenched around his cup as if holding on for dear life.
I let out a slow breath, the steam from my coffee swirling in front of my face before disappearing into the cool night air. "Emma's door may not even open today," I murmured, the words almost too heavy to get out. "I'm honestly scared to see her again." My voice cracked a little, and I tried to smooth it over with a shrug. "We should probably just... let her be. Until she says she's okay, or... ready."
He nodded, his gaze drifting back out over the river as we continued walking, the soft thud of our footsteps the only sound in the quiet night. We reached the edge of the dock and leaned against the railing, the metal cold under my elbows as I rested my weight on it. For a moment, we just stood there, side by side, watching the water ripple softly below.
"Are you okay?" Atlas asked quietly, more calm than any decent human could be in a situation like this. There was something tentative about it, like he was afraid to hear the answer.
I scoffed, letting out a sharp huff of disbelief. "I mean, are you?" I shot back, turning my head to look at him.
He glanced at me, his expression almost blank, but I could sense the turmoil underneath. The way his emotions swirled and twisted together, a tangled mess of anxiety, frustration, and helplessness. Anything but okay.
"Exactly," I muttered, looking away as I took another sip of my coffee. "No. I'm not okay. None of this is okay."
The bitterness of the coffee washed over my tongue, grounding me for a second. It tasted a little different this time—stronger, maybe. There was a hint of sweetness in it too. But it didn't stop the lump forming in my throat.
