A T O M

The basic building block of matter.

T O  T H E 
M O O N & B A C K

WE WALK SIDE by side down the eerie street. Neither of us has spoken in the last fifteen minutes and not one of us have spoken up about where we are going. I don't know where the fuck I am and I don't think that she does either. I don't ask, though. I don't care where we're going or where we end up.

Every house we pass has all of its lights off and the asphalt is wet. Every few seconds, I step in a puddle settled in the dips in the road. It smells like rain and I know it's only a matter of time before it starts again.

I know she's pissed off at whatever happened between her and her friend—or whatever they are—once I left, but I can tell she doesn't want to talk about it and I don't bother bringing it up because I don't want to force her. I know how fucking annoying it is when someone tries to talk to you about something you're trying to bury.

I like the silence between us but it's starting to get too loud. I'm high and I'm even more hypersensitive to my surroundings. The sound my throat makes every time I swallow, my breathing, her breathing, the way my shoes squeak with every step due to the water in them. It's like she can sense I'm getting irritated because she finally speaks up.

"Do you think I was being petty by kissing you just to piss Ophelia off?" 

I chew on the inside of my cheek, nodding my head. "Yeah," I say and I hear her suck in a sharp intake of air. "But that doesn't mean I think it was wrong."

I see her nod slightly and I can't tell whether she likes that answer, or hates it. "We have this confusion fucking situationship and I know the purpose of a situationship is for it to not be established or whatever, but it's so fucking confusing." she begins to ramble heatedly and usually I don't give a shit—when Alula tries to talk to me about this stuff I walk out and slam the door, but this time I listen. "She doesn't want to be with me but she doesn't want to be without me, either. And I don't want to be with her more than a friend, but I don't want her with someone else. Does that make sense?"

It does. Pandora and I had the same thing going for three years too fucking long. Except she did want to be official, but with that being said, she didn't want all of me. She wanted the good part of me, and there's no good there. So, really, she just wanted me but not me at all. 

Sometimes I found myself wanting to be more than. . .whatever the hell we were, too. But it was only in the moments where I sought comfort that I couldn't find in no amount of sleep nor drug. I loved her in the moments that I needed human touch. In retrospect, that sounds really shitty, and that's because it is really shitty, but we're both shitty people. Which makes the entire concept less shitty.

Poetic.

"Yeah." I agree. "It does."

Rory sighs in relief, like she had been hoping for that answer. "Then, why?" she asks.

I think the question is more so one directed toward herself, but nonetheless, I answer. "It's comfort. It's familiarity. It's hard to leave someone because even though they fucked you up, they stayed. And for some reason, that's good enough for you to stay too."

Her entire body sighs and I feel the high slipping away like sand through my fingers as the heaviness of my sadness prepares to close over me again. Just leave me be. Just for a little longer.

It never listens.

"How do you know this?" she asks. "I thought you never had a girlfriend."

I turn to face her as we continue to walk down the vacant street, fog passing through our lips with every exhale. "How did you make that assumption?"

She shrugs, not daring to look at me. I think she smiles. "People at school." she answers me briefly before glancing at my side profile. "Is it true?" I nod but remain silent. "So, then. How do you know?"

I shrug feeling the metaphorical web stringing some lie I can tell her, just so she doesn't ask again. "One of my sisters. She had a boyfriend once and he hit her sometimes. He called her things. But she lost herself somewhere along the way of trying to stay and trying not to break and she didn't realize until the day she found herself hitting back, that she—he had turned her into him. But she always stayed."

I feel my fingers trembling and my heart racing erratically. If only she knew that my sister was actually me and my sister's boyfriend was actually Pandora. I don't want her to know, though. If you keep things hidden, they remain unreal.

I don't want what happened to be real.

"Holy shit," she voices her thoughts but despite her blunt response, she sounds concerned. "Was it Alula?"

I shake my head. No, it was me. "No. My eldest sister." I lie.

"You have two sisters?"

I shake my head again as we walk in sync rather slowly and I peer up at the cloudy sky which covers most of the stars. "Three." 

It begins to rain lightly, drops of wetness falling into my hair and soaking my shoulders. I squint as one lands on my eyelash, making my vision blurry,

"Wow," she actually sounds interested. It's probably the alcohol. "What's that like?"

I shoot her a look. A confused one. "What do you mean?"

She rolls her eyes as if I'm the one asking a stupid question. "I mean, what is it like being the only boy and having three female siblings?"

I shrug. "I'm used to it, so it's normal. I guess I was always closer to my father growing up but periods were something I became overly familiar with by the time I was eight. I think I know more about women than I do men, but it's okay, I suppose. Mercy's more like my fucking mother than a sister. And Alula's more like my father, but she's all I have really. And Everly. . .I don't know, she's only eighteen, so I feel protective towards her, but she's never around anymore, neither is Mercy. So, it's just me now, I guess."

I feel uncomfortable for saying so much. I know she asked, but does she even care? No one ever asks about my family unless it relates to my mother and her fame.

Rory nods, taking in all that information. "You and Mercy don't get along?" I snort, agreeing. That's an understatement. "Are your parents divorced?"

I shake my head. "Yours?"

She shakes her head too. "Surprisingly not. I don't think I'd call what they have a marriage, though. Some nights they don't even sleep in the same bed. My dad's a fucking asshole."

I stifle a laugh, but she doesn't mirror the same response. When looking at her face, she seems saddened by the topic more than anything, so I decide to change it. "Do you have a dog or anything?"

Fucking bingo, I think as the mentioning of having a pet brings a noticeable light to her eyes as she nods. "Yeah, I have a dog. Archie. He's my best friend. And you?"

"Yeah, family dog. Her names Prim."

Our conversation ceases to silence and it's the type of silence that isn't loud and suffocating. It's quiet and comforting. It makes the heaviness weighing down my chest slightly less heavy. We make a right onto Middleton Road, as we near Hackney and grow further away from the party in Dalston.

A few streets later, we end up on the side of the main road. Across it is a petrol station and then a long line of closed shops.

Finally, I ask the question I should have asked over half an hour ago. "Where are we going?"

"To be honest, I don't know." she says and I glare at her. "What? I don't live around here. I was just planning on walking until I see something I recognize."

I snort. "Smart tactic." I roll my eyes.

She hums in agreement and I watch as she slides her hand into her pocket and pulls out a box of pre-rolled cigarettes. She reached into her pocket again, this time looking like she had just lost a limb before a look of panic takes over her features. "I lost my fucking lighter."

I reach into my pocket and pull mine out, holding it up to her. When she reaches for it, I pull it back and she narrows her eyes. "I'm not saying please, Atlas. Fucking give it to me."

I roll my eyes, yet again before tossing it at her and she catches it. Just.

I lean against the poll behind me, cars zooming past on the multi-lane road, going in all directions. If I squint hard enough, I can't see anything but all of the colours and lights blurring into multiple endless lines.

I sigh loudly, feeling exhausted as I cross my arms, listening to the flick of the lighter as Rory lights her cigarette. I can visibly see her entire figure relax as she inhales. Her eyes are less red now and her anger seems to have slipped away.

"So, Atlas." she pauses to exhale a thick puff of smoke. "What's your favourite thing to do?"

I raise an eyebrow. "I don't know." I answer. "I don't really enjoy anything."

She rolls her dark brown eyes giving me an unbelievable expression. "You know the Atlas that told me about how he hates talking and shit because at the end of the day it's just a wasted effort and no one actually cares?" I nod. "Yeah. Give me that Atlas."

I uncross my arms, staring at her blatantly. "You want to hear my depressing thoughts? Aren't you just a ball of fun."

"No," she remarks. "I want you to be, like, real."

I watch her closely as she shifts uncomfortably like she's asking me too much. And honestly, she is. But that doesn't mean I won't give her what she wants.

"You want me to be real with you?" I ask lowly.

She nods, inhaling the smoke. "Mhm."

"Okay, I'll be real with you." I reach my hand out and grab her arm, tugging her toward me. Her shoes scuff against the asphalt as I bring her closer and she yelps in surprise. My hand drops from her arm and snakes around her waist and she stares up at me through her eyelashes. "I like the way you look at me." I say just as she averts her gaze to the ground like my words have made her embarrassed for some reason. "I like your body. I'd like to see more of your body. Sometimes, I like to think about touching it." sometimes I like to think about fucking it. "Fuck the sexual shit. I want to watch the moon with you and sit in silence. I want to look into your eyes just so I can see the stars. I want to fuck you off just so that I can watch how red you turn when you get mad. Is that real enough for you?" 

She nods helplessly, humming in agreement. I notice then how her pale cheeks are tainted with a deep, ruby red. 

I move my hand to her chin, tilting her face upward as I bring my lips close to hers. "You know," I pause just to take in her beauty for a moment. "If I could, I'd bend you over right here. Would you like that, Red?"

Almost took quickly, she nods, but she doesn't utter a single word.

Not caring that cars were passing us every second, I slide my hands around her back and grab her ass, hoisting her up into the air and she instinctively wraps her legs around me and one hand grips my shoulder tightly, the other is still being used to hold her cigarette.

"Atlas, put me down." she says sternly, but she looks conflicted, like that is not what she really wants. "Now."

I smirk up at her. "Why? Are you embarrassed?"

She shakes her head, rolling her eyes. "No, Atlas. I'm not embarrassed, I just don't like being held."

Why doesn't she like being held? Is it because she doesn't like being touched? Or is it because she's insecure that she's too heavy? Because in that case, she's far from heavy. In fact, she's quite literally weightless and I'm not sure if that's normal or not. I have never held a girl like this before.

"You really want me to put you down?" I ask and she hesitates but nods after a moment. "Then kiss me and I will."

Even if she doesn't kiss me, I will put her down because clearly, she isn't comfortable, but I just thought I would try my chances because I feel like kissing her again.

She rolls her eyes, bringing the end of her cigarette to her lips and inhaling deeply, before dismissing the remainder of it onto the concrete path. Her hands grip the sides of my face as she brings her lips down to meet mine and I part my lips. Once hers meet mine, she parts hers too and blows the smoke into my mouth, surrounding us with smoke as I blow it back out.

I stare at her dark eyes through a thin layer of smoke, my eyes trailing down from her nose to her lips, to the red strip of hair behind her ear. And then, unlike last time I press my lips to hers and I find myself fantasising about what we could be doing right now if there were no one or nothing else around.

Her lips part, releasing a moan and I use this as an opportunity to slide my tongue into her mouth, tasting her for the first time and I feel every atom of my being begging me to pull away because God knows I don't need to be addicted to something else but something in the way she pants and moans and tightens her grips around me makes me realize that I no longer want to fuck her as a pathetic bet—though that was never the case to begin with.

As I hold her delicately in my hands, our lips never leaving one another's for a single second, I come to the conclusion that of all things my hands have held, the best by far is her.

A U T H O R ' S  N O T E

hi everyone!

i hope you liked this chapter, the next one is so cute i can't wait for y'all to read it. please lmk how you're liking the pace of the story so far and if you have any feedback at all.

anyways please remember to vote, comment, and follow me, as well as read "always atlas" by Gemma_Grace_ for rorys pov.

stay safe. love you all and i'll see you soon.

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