“in that nook I found you sold and tired; would you be the one to carry me?”

https://open.spotify.com/track/2ldmzcLJvYv4WHPrzGbBgq?si=97c4b126f5854ee5

April, 2024.

[Alexa] WYA? [Atlas] On the way to the bar. Eta 15 mins away. [Alexa] The bar is so dead… I wanna go home. Derian’s super cranky I cannot stand him. [Atlas] Sure, then I’ll wait outside and take you straight home. [Alexa] Wanna stay around? My watchlist’s still long [Atlas] Do you want me to stay? [Alexa] I offered, Atlassian. [Atlas] Lol. Okay then, if that’s what you want.

—

The air around Alexa felt different tonight—it was a bit thick and heavy, as though dark clouds were gathering above her head, a telltale of incoming storm. She looked gloom, even after Atlas cracked up a few jokes.

Usually, even at her hardest days, Alexa would not fail to curve smiles and throw witty remarks that left Atlas speechless; and yet tonight she was quiet, she didn’t choose any songs, even on their ride back to her apartment. He wanted to ask questions, but he was not sure if questions were what she needed.

Atlas, and his quiet desire to be a hero for everyone but himself.

It was only his second time being in Alexa’s home, but Atlas felt as though he could navigate his way through already. Her home offered a sense of… comfort, somehow. The first thing she did when she reached her place was to turn on the lamp, then she would take off her shoes and jacket and put her keys right above the shoe cabinet.

He observed which mug Alexa liked to use, and if she liked her water lukewarm or cold (she preferred the cold one). He liked the moody warm lighting, he liked how the hallways smelled of tobacco and baby powder, he liked the scratchy sound Alexa’s old turntable makes when it played Beach House’s songs.

In your heart of chambers, where you sit; with your picture books and your ancient wits.

Atlas liked to just sit comfortably on her couch while observing the owner of the house; her hair was down and messy today, and she did not put any makeup on. She then walked towards him with a bottle of wine and two glasses, and then as she sat right beside him, Atlas would help to pour the drink on the glass. He gave one to Alexa, and before he even drank his own glass, she already downed the the potion.

“Easy,” he looked at her in wonder. “I haven’t even asked anything.”

“Just needed some courage,” she gave her glass back and Atlas refilled it. “Out of all the liquors I’ve ever tasted, nothing comforts me like wine will.”

“I’d like to challenge that.”

Alexa smiled as she reached for Atlas’ fingers, and he’s laughing when she started to compare the size of their hands. She was so tiny in his grip. “You’re basically a kid.”

“Your hand feels like you’ve been through a lot,” she said as her thumb traced the calloused skin on the tip of his fingers, then down to his palm, before she let his hand engulfed hers one more time. “My dad’s feels exactly like yours.”

This was only the second time she ever mentioned her dad, but then she just stopped there, so Atlas didn’t dare to pry. He smiled softly, the tip of his fingers brushing her skin. “Reside in my hand anytime you like.”