CHAPTER 212: BEFORE I FALL IN LOVE.

Hours later...

A sound from the front door rang as it unlocked. Atlas stepped into the living area, not expecting anyone to welcome him home. It was late—or early, depending on how you looked at it—four hours past midnight.

But as he walked in, he froze, spotting a figure in the living area. His brows lifted as he approached, stopping several paces away from Lola. She was asleep, her arm on the table serving as a pillow, her head resting on it. The other hand lay loose at her side, a pencil held between her fingers.

Curious, he stepped closer and tilted his head, his eyes falling on the table. A small note lay beneath her pen, enough to let him imagine how she had fallen asleep in that position.

"If she’s sleepy, she shouldn’t force it."

Atlas shook his head slightly and glanced at his wristwatch. Seeing how late it was, he removed his coat and blazer, loosened his tie, and draped the clothing over the couch before turning his attention back to her. But before doing anything else, he noticed the sketch beneath her hand.

The drawing was unfinished, but he could see she had tried to depict a fireworks display—or maybe a meteor shower—with people’s backs turned, watching the spectacle.

A defeated smile tugged at his lips. Carefully, he scooped her into his arms and carried her to their shared bedroom.

*

*

The next morning...

"Ugh..." Lola groaned, reaching for her stiff shoulder. Her face was already crumpled before she even opened her eyes, turning comfortably onto her side.

After a moment, she opened her eyes slowly. Her vision was blurry, but the morning sunlight she had expected to momentarily blind her was blocked by something else. She blinked, focusing her vision, until the figure in front of her grew clearer.

There, lying on his side facing her, was Atlas. His knuckles propped against his temple, eyes on her.

"..." Lola blinked again, staring at the man who had claimed the first sight of her day.

With the sunlight behind him, his expression seemed gentler than usual. Her mind didn’t work immediately; for a moment, she even wondered if he was real.

"I’m home," he said quietly, reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair from her face. "Missed me?"

Her eyelashes fluttered, and her heart skipped a beat. And for a second, all she could do was stare.

"You’re back?" she whispered. "So soon?"

He raised his brows. "I was worried you’d be too sad."

Sad? Why would she be sad?

Lola gulped and pulled the sheet up to cover the lower half of her face, but her eyes never left him. Seeing her retreat quietly, he arched a brow.

"Going back to sleep?" he asked. "Or hiding?"

"No," she replied quickly but softly. "I just need to make sure you’re real."

"Are you... a former lunatic?"

She deadpanned, narrowing her eyes. "Yep. You’re real." Then she stopped hiding under the blanket, staring directly at him. "Welcome back, Atlas."

A subtle smile appeared on his lips, and he nodded. He rested his head on the pillow, keeping his eyes open, and casually draped a hand over her, the blanket still around her.

"Sleep some more," he muttered, closing his eyes. "It’s too early. The doctor said you need rest."

"Doctor?"

"He came when you fainted."

That clarified the question Lola had had before he left. She hadn’t expected it to turn out this way, though. Her thoughts halted as he pulled her closer. If not for the thick blanket, it would have been her body pressed directly against his.

"And next time, don’t fall asleep anywhere else," he added lazily, adjusting himself while keeping her in his arms. "Sleep somewhere comfortable. You’d hurt yourself if you keep doing that."

Lola clutched the blanket, staring at the face inches from hers. Even with the thick layer of fabric between them, the warmth of his body and the weight of his arms reached her.

"Aren’t you getting too comfortable?" She murmured, her voice barely audible.

Atlas lazily opened one eye. "Do you have a problem with it?"

"No, sir," she replied instinctively, shaking her head.

"Good."

Lola winced as he closed his eyes again. A shallow breath escaped her, silently grateful for the few days he had been gone—they had given her time to recompose and sort her thoughts. Since this man had moved in without permission or warning, she had never had a chance to think clearly.

Maybe that was why she still didn’t know how to handle him, his antics, or the things he said.

Quietly, she studied him as he shifted, pulling her closer. Up close or from a distance, his facial features were flawless.

"Atlas," she whispered, earning a soft hum from him. "You... you’re crazy about me, right?"

"..."

"Are you going to ask me on a date? I need to mentally prepare when you do."

This time, Atlas opened his eyes slowly. When he met her gaze, all he saw were round eyes reflecting his own curiosity.

It seemed his absence had given her space to relax; she didn’t look tense or hesitant anymore.

"No," he said, making her blink. "I’ve already prepared it. All you need to do is come."

Lola tilted her head. "You mean you’re not going to ask me... because you’re going to make me go, anyway?"

"A certain someone suggested that asking just invites and risks rejection," he explained, closing his eyes again. "He has a point."

"..."

"You’ll go," he said, opening his eyes slightly.

Lola pursed her lips behind the blanket, then shrugged. "Is that a question?"

"Up to you."

"... well, I guess?"

"Good. Now, sleep again."

He really did seem ready to rest this time. But Lola couldn’t sleep. She just stared at him, studying every detail.

"..." She lowered her eyes briefly, biting her lip to stop a smile, then looked back at him and nodded mentally to herself.

That’s right, Lola. If he’s pursuing you, might as well give him a chance. And...

She pursed her lips, eyes still on him.

I want to get to know him more... before I really fall in love.