Chapter 5: Atlas
She’s still in my head.
The new girl.
The too-small, too-soft, too-not-built-for-this-life girl.
Wren Harper.
I try to shake it off as I shove my gear into my bag, but the image won’t go away—her kneeling in front of me, wrapping my hand with those small gloved fingers, talking to me like I’m not a monster.Like I’m something human.Something worth fixing.
No one talks to me like that.
No one touches me like that.
And nobody—nobody—looks at me the way she did right before she told me off.
I can still feel it.
The way she stood her ground.
The heat in her eyes.
The way her pulse kicked in her throat when I stepped closer.
Most people flinch when I’m near.
She didn’t.
She fucking leaned in.
I should stay away.
She’s staff.
She’s trouble.
She’s everything I can’t have.
But when she walked out earlier—hoodie slung over her arm, cheeks flushed, breath uneven—my feet almost followed her out of instinct.
Almost.
