The doorbell rang again, knocking me out of my daydream, and I raced to the door. I unlocked the various locks, not that it would keep a town monster out of my house, and swung open the door.
There before me was the cutest thing I had ever seen. Atlas stood tall in his usual red plaid shirt and dark-wash jeans. He had combed out his beard, which was cool; he could change up his glamor. It even had a nice sheen to it. The hair on the top of his head was slicked back, almost too much, but the effort was there because he also held an enormous bouquet of deep-red roses and two bottles of wine.
“I, uh, brought you these.” Atlas handed them out to me as if he didn’t know what to do with them.
Be still, boobs. Don’t jiggle in excitement yet.
And we don’t want to poke an eye out.
I grabbed his wrist and pulled him inside. “Aren’t you the sweetest, bringing me all this? You didn’t have to.” I grabbed the roses and took a deep breath. The leaves were dark, also giving a beautiful gothic aesthetic. I had the perfect vase for them, too. “They are beautiful. Where did you get them?”
No one has ever given me flowers before, unless you count the ones I received online when I got a little too excited winning a game.
Atlas shifted his weight, the wine bottles clinking softly in his hands. "There's this place just down the road, a flower shop. They've got this whole garden in the back with the strangest plants you've ever seen." His eyes brightened. "I could show you sometime, if weird flora is your thing..."
My eyes lit up. "Are you kidding? I live for weird anything! Tell me everything they grow." I carried the bouquet to the sink and rummaged through the cabinet for my favorite vase. It was a sleek black one with delicate gold trim that would make the crimson blooms pop against its darkness.
Atlas's shoulders dropped as he followed me to the kitchen, his head clearing the doorframe with room to spare. He didn't have to duck or fold himself smaller. The open floor plan appeared to be designed for someone his size.
I’m sure it was intentional for all buildings of the town because I haven’t seen homes with this high of a ceiling before. I’m used to smaller apartments.
Atlas leaned in, eyes gleaming. "They've got these mutant snapdragons—imagine the regular flower, but when you squeeze the sides, instead of just looking like a mouth, it actually has tiny, serrated teeth. Some mad botanist crossed themwith Venus flytraps. The shop owner lets them nibble raw hamburgers once a week."
My mouth opened into the shape of an O. Yeah, definitely needed to see that.
I reached up, trying to grab the vase that was at the top of the cabinet. My deep-purple shirt rode up, exposing the skin of my back. Atlas was there in a second when he saw what I was reaching for and easily plucked the vase for me, and setting it on the counter.
“You come in handy. I will have to keep you around.”
Atlas hummed. “You are already taller than most of the human… I mean, females in town. I’m surprised you can’t reach it.” Atlas scratched his head.
I puckered my lips. Hmm, that was a good observation. It seemed that these townhomes were intended for the paranormal types rather than humans. Or were they made for the monsters to come visit and show them they were not abnormally tall?
Something else to write in Harlow’sStrange and Probably Truenotebook.
“Where is your roommate? Isn’t she usually filming?” Atlas stared at the camera set up near the kitchen table. It was clean for once, and it was weird not seeing Harlow fluttering around the kitchen.
“She's holed up in her room with a nasty cold. I practically had to force-feed her some meds, but she's finally sleeping it off. She'll probably be dead to the world until tomorrow, though I should probably peek in later to make sure her temperature isn't spiking.”
I placed the flowers into the vase and arranged them how I wanted.
“You are very kind and thoughtful,” Atlas mused.
I smiled, a blush forming on my cheeks. “Did you not think I would be?” I winked at him, and Atlas shook his head quickly.
Atlas stammered, "No… that's not… I meant it as a good thing." He dragged his palm across his forehead, deepening the furrow between his brows. I reached up and smoothed the wrinkle away with my thumb, feeling the warmth of fuzz under his glamor.
“Hey, big guy, I’m only joking with you. Was it too much?” I grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze.
Atlas sighed. “I… have to admit, my mind is buzzing with so many things right now. It is hard to organize it and put everything into place.”
I tilted my head, wondering what on Earth he was even thinking about. I took the bottles of wine and set them on the counter, then led him to the living room. The living room was cozy, as it should be for this high-strung and nervous Mothman. I had the deep purple curtains drawn, and the gold frames from pictures sparkled with the candlelight. The couch was done up with plenty of blankets, soft pillows, and the coffee table had so many appetizers it would be our dinner.
Atlas stared in disbelief when I sat him down. He slowly sank into the couch, but before he lay back, he sat straight back up.
“Atlas, we need to get something straight here.” I took his hand and placed it on my exposed knee. I wasn’t wearing booty shorts, but the shorts were short enough to use a blanket later. That was the whole point of watching a movie, right?
Atlas visibly gulped, and his face reddened so bright I feared his real eyes might show through.
