(hey, please don't steal the little letters and stuff written in this book. thanks, love you bae. p.s. enjoy both zayn's vocals and pretty face, it's just a plus that the song fits the chapter (; )

wandering the hallway of the hotels. It was getting darker and darker outside and I yearned to be outside, to revel in the darkness and smile against the cool breezes.

I was ready for the party, dressed simply in a satin black dress that ended at my mid-thigh. The gold jewelry that hung from my neck and cradled my fingers and wrist were cold against my skin.

Leah had told me that she wanted to try something out on her hair, but would only do it if I did. I asked her what she wanted to do and she said that she wanted bangs. It was a weird request coming from Leah because she never ever cut her hair in her life aside from the few trims here and there. Aside from that, she never cut it short, never dyed it, and never did anything to it unless she was a hundred percent sure her hair would not get damaged.

Nonetheless, I let her cut my hair. She pulled me into the bathroom and tied my hair over my head. She had me wait in the bathroom as she scoured the hotel for a pair of scissors. When she finally came back with a pair of crafting scissors, I started to become a little unsure. She assured me we'd be fine and pulled my ponytail over my head and started to cut off at least an inch and a half.

When she was done with that, she tossed my hair in the trash and started to finish detailing her work. When she was done with that, she ran out of the bathroom and came back with her flat iron, blow dryer, and hair rollers.

After about an hour of me complaining, Dawson coming in to make fun of my hair, Leah kicking him out, Julia assuring me that if it looks bad, it'll grow back in a few months, and Jude and Atlas sitting in our room to watch the train wreck that was Leah and me, we were done.

When I finally looked at myself in the mirror, I didn't hate it. My hair kind of looked really nice. Instead of stopping below my shoulder blades, my hair now stopped a little under my shoulders. She had cut my hair from the front so it looked like I had bangs. It wasn't too short or two dumb-looking. As a matter of fact, with it curled the way it was, I liked it a lot.

I touched the tips of my hair as I stopped in front of my hotel door. Julia and Leah were in there getting ready. Jude went downstairs for some reason. I offered to accompany him to where he was going, but he refused saying that he needed to take a walk. I nodded and gave him his space.

Dawson was in the shower in his room and Atlas was also in his shower last I checked. I decided to skip my room and made my way over to Atlas's room. I didn't have to bother with a key since the door was held open with the deadbolt. I stepped in and let the door properly shut behind me.

The room was pretty messy, but what else did I expect? I could hear the shower on and the smell of Atlas's cologne floated out of the little tiled room and out into the bedroom. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath.

The way he smelled was addicting. I know it sounded weird to hear that, but it just was. He had this soft cedarwood-ish and vanilla cologne he used that sounds so feminine but isn't. I'd, no joke, drown myself in that smell if I could.

I walked over to his bed and ran my hand over the leather cover of the notebook I wrote my letters on. I picked up and sat down on the bed, running my fingers over the spiral rings on the side. I flipped the cover open, turning to the first page.

Sitting in small and neat handwriting in the middle of the page were a few simple words.

the world, the hurt, the love through my eyes

Atlas Foreman

I ran my fingers over the words, quickly flipping to the next page. A sketch of a man holding his face in his hands was drawn. The strokes of the writing utensil he used were sharp and hard. Each stroke angry and so full of motion. The drawing in general was a mess of lead, but you could perfectly well tell what it was he was drawing.

I flipped to another page and there, in the same handwriting I started to love looking at, was a journal entry addressed to a couple of people. The date read 4/21/2021– the same date engraved on the tattoo on his arm.

Dear Dad, Mom, Jason, Athena, Selena, Jace,

Dear Jude and Dawson,

Dear Mr. Jackson and Ms. Holly,

I'm sorry.

Yours truly,

Atlas

I frowned and closed my eyes for a second. This felt personal. I shouldn't be here flipping through his journal and shit. I opened my eyes and glanced at the bathroom, listening to the flow of the water coming from the shower.

I was asking to get yelled at by him, but I couldn't physically put the notebook away. I took my bottom lip between my teeth and opened a random page.

I read the entry. The date read 03/16/2021.

Dear God (if you're even out there),

Everything hurts. My whole body is shaking and heating up— I feel like I might implode. Fuck you for feeling like I needed to go through all this shit. When my head hurts like this, I can't help but want to cease to exist. I don't want to die, but you're making me want to— you're making it hard to ignore the urges. I want to get better so bad.

I cancelled plans with Dawson and Jude today and I'll probably cancel plans with that girl from last week.

For the sake of being hopeful, I'll ask again. Give me a miracle.

Sincerely,

Atlas

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. My fingers touched the urgent handwriting and I let out a sigh, my heart wrenching at his words that were pleading for someone to help. I brushed back a curl from my face and flipped to what I had hoped was the last entry I'd be reading.

The date was from a few days ago— 07/11/2021.

My beloved,

I liked the name of endearment you used. I know you probably didn't think much about it when you wrote it down, but I did. I thought about it a lot. It sounds so sad and so longing and I'm pretty sure that those are the only two feelings I'm filled with. I'm filled with so much sadness and so much grief from both my past and my present.

Then I'm filled with so much longing. Longing for a smile that isn't holding back tears; for a head that doesn't wish harm on my body with each step. But most of all, I long for the chance to hold your hand in mine, for the chance to press my lips against yours, and for the chance for you to call me yours.

Truly yours,

Atlas

By the end of that entry, I was finding it hard to breathe. In the bathroom, the water shut off, but I couldn't move, I couldn't get up. I found myself flipping to the next page.

Heat rushed to my face as I read the name of the person the entry was addressed to. The entry was a pretty short one in comparison to the others and the sides were covered in a bunch of small drawings. Some of the ocean, some of a forest, one of a pair of entwined hands, and another of a pair of lips. I ran my fingers over the drawing of the girl's lips.

The entry was dated the same day as the last one.

Dear Eden,

You make my head hurt in all the right ways. You make my head feel empty, you make my fingers tingle and ache. You make my shirt pool with dark redness and you make my lungs fight for air.

You're killing me.

Your only,

Atlas

The door to the bathroom slid open and my eyes met Atlas's. He was dressed in a pair of white pants, a black dress shirt for a top. His hair was damp from his shower and his skin made me envious. I wanted to run my fingers along the softness of his face. His lips were a darker shade of pink than they usually were as if he was biting them for a while.

To my surprise, he didn't look mad. He simply dropped the towel he was clenching in his fist on the chair and let out a sigh. I pressed my fingers to my lips, looking for something to say.

He walked over to the desk pushed to the wall and gripped the edge. He dropped his head between his shoulders and stayed like that for a while. His fingers tightened around the edge of the table and his knuckles turned white.

I got up and placed the notebook down on the bed and walked over to him. I wanted to know so many things. I wanted to know what it was like in his head. I wanted to know if he had someone and if not, I wanted him to know that I was here. I would always be here.

I gently placed my hand on his arm and he briefly looked back at me. His eyes were red and his hand loosened against the table for a second. I was surprised to see that his hands were shaking.

When he looked back at me once more, I offered him a smile. No pity, no sorrow, just a brutally honest smile. It said so many things, but of one of those things, it said: I'm here.

I pulled him towards me. His actions were slow and unsure, but when I pulled him into my embrace, his body relaxed. My hands slid up his shoulder and my fingers buried themselves into his hair, my other hand holding him to me. His arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me to him till my chest was pressed against his.

I sucked in a breath and let him bury his face in my shoulder. He took in a breath, "You weren't supposed to see that,"

I nodded, "Yeah, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to— It was rude and I'm sorry."

He let out a small laugh into my shoulder, pulling me closer to him. He stayed for a few seconds before he sighed, "You smell so... good."

A second later, he whispered, "I could stay here forever,"

I tightened my hold on him and maybe, just maybe that was enough to let him know that I could stay here, in his arms for eternity.

The party was in full swing when we arrived. My fingers tingled with the want to down three cups of alcohol and forget about the end of this summer.

Everytime I'd move my hand to my face, the smell of Atlas's shampoo or conditioner or cologne would engulf my senses. My brain would swim and my eyes would flit to Atlas's figure in front of me.

I needed him out of my head.

With a look of finalist, I grabbed Leah and Julia's hands dragging them over to the kitchen. They gave me confused looks when I stopped in front of the alcohol. They watched me fill a red Solo cup to the brim with vodka. I pressed the cup to my lips and down at least a quarter of it before I pulled the cup away from my mouth, coughing and wincing.

Leah giggled, clapping her hands excitedly and emulated my actions. Julia gave us a bewildered look and laughed softly. She grabbed a coke and opened the can sipping from it as she watched us down our cups of alcohol.

"Yeah!" Leah yelled, pumping her fist in the air, "Let's dance,"

She grabbed Julia's hand and pulled her to the dance floor. Julia looked back at me, a pout on her face and I giggled at her antics. I downed the rest of my drink and threw the empty cup in the trash that was overflowing with matching cups.

I moved to the makeshift dance floor in hopes of loosening my nerves even more with a dance or two. My eyes scanned the crowd and when they landed on Atlas and a girl with long midnight hair and vibrant brown eyes, I almost choked.

She was beautiful and the way she was looking at Atlas made my stomach curl. My hands balled into fists as I watched Atlas move his body next to her slim one. As she threw her head back onto his shoulder as she laughed, I could've passed away. Not because she was getting too close to him or anything, but because of the small smile on Atlas's lips. His hands weren't exactly on her, but he looked to be enjoying himself.

And the way she was looking at him... God, I could murder!

I started to feel a little sick because I was watching Atlas slip between my fingers. A pang of jealousy hit my stomach hard, almost making me double over in pain. He didn't see me yet, but I kind of wished he had. I wanted his eyes on me, not her.

I shook myself from my daze and moved to the center of the crowd. He had a right to enjoy himself at a party just like I did. Who was I to stop that? We were just...

Complicated.

Not strangers, not friends, nor were we lovers. We were something much, much more than that.

As I moved about the dance floor in search of Leah and Julia, I tripped on a leg and came crashing to the ground. As I fell to the ground, I felt a pair of arms wrap around my waist and lessen the pain of the fall. When I was out of the hold of the person who caught me, I stood up and turned around meeting a pair of deep brown eyes.

I let out a small laugh, "Thanks,"

He smiled warmly at me and nodded, sticking his hand out invitingly, "How about a dance as a thank you?" His accent was so French and smooth it made my head spin.

I looked down at his hand and slipped my hand in his, "Sure,"

He pulled me to him and we started to dance to the music booming around us. His hands were placed on my hips, guiding my body to the music playing overhead. Every once in a while, he'd pull me closer to him and smile at the laugh that'd escape my lips.

A sheen of sweat slicked my forehead by the time we were at our third dance. Our bodies were now comfortably pressed against the others. His brown hair that reminded me so much of coffee and milk was pressed to his forehead in sweat. His brown eyes followed my every move.

I had learned that his name was Oliver and that he was friends with Genevieve, the girl who invited us to the party. I had told him that my name was Eden and he nodded to himself and smiled, "Fitting name,"

My eyes wandered past him as his hands pulled my body closer to his. My eyes met a pair of blue eyes— they don't look blue from here, but I could recognize those eyes anywhere. His eyebrows were furrowed as his eyes flickered from Oliver's hands around my waist to my eyes.

My face mirrored his as I realized that he was still dancing with the girl with the midnight hair and brown eyes. Her face was facing me and I watched her pink lips pull into a small smile as she pulled Atlas's hand over her stomach.

Atlas didn't even look at her, but continued to watch me dancing with the boy I knew nothing about. I watched Atlas's jaw clench, but his eyes never left mine. He watched me sway my hips to the sound of the music against Oliver until I couldn't take it anymore.

When I looked away, not even a few seconds later, I was pulled away from Oliver. Both Oliver and I looked surprised and I turned, meeting Atlas's eyes— they looked green now.

"Can I have the next dance?" Atlas asked Oliver, but he wasn't really asking. He'd have the next dance with me whether Oliver said yes or no. Oliver nodded and threw me a small smile. I waved bye, but was quickly turned around, forced to face Atlas.

His hands fell to my hips and he pulled me closer to him, pressing my body against his. A gasp left my lips and I found myself holding onto him as he led my body through the song. His eyes never left mine once.

Across the floor, I saw Leah wave up at me and before I could smile at her, Atlas's fingers moved my face to look at him. "Focus on me,"

My eyes snapped to him and I watched his eyes roam my face. I took a breath, "I lied,"

He frowned, his hand leaving my hip for a second to brush a stray hair from my face. His fingers trailed the outline of my lips before his hand returned to my hip. "About what exactly?"

I took a breath, "I do get jealous. And I told you I'd tell you if I ever did, so here I am."

Before I could see his reaction or hear the words he wanted to say, I slipped from his embrace and moved to the second floor. I quickly climbed the stairs not daring to look back at him.

When I finally found a room that wasn't occupied by hundreds of people, I quickly grabbed a drink from the drink area upstairs. I downed the cup in a couple of seconds and headed for the room. I shut the door behind me collapsing on the bed as my head swam and my vision blurred.

A small laugh tumbled from my lips, "Fuck,"

I don't know how long I laid there staring at the stupid pattern on the ceiling and listening to the muffled booming of music. My body felt very warm and my limbs felt light, but hard to move.

I let out a groan and laid on my back, my arms sprawled over my head and my legs stretched in front of me. My eyes fluttered closed and I wanted so bad for sleep to take me over and for it to be tomorrow already. I was done with today.

Someone knocked on the door and before I could say anything, the door slipped open. I tilted my head to the right and watched as Atlas walked in, a small smile on his lips. I wanted to bury myself in a hole and just die. That's how embarrassed I was by my confession.

He closed the door and started to walk towards me, but I stopped him, "Lock the door because I swear to God, if one more person..."

My sentence trailed away, but Atlas got the idea. He turned sound and locked the door. When he turned back around, he stood there for a few seconds taking in the drab room. My eyes fluttered closed once more, my cheeks burning red as I remembered the stupid thing I told him downstairs a few minutes ago.

The bed dipped next to me and I opened my eyes, looking at Atlas who was laying down next to me. He was laying on his side, his arm holding his head up so he was leaning over me a little bit. I stared up at him.

His eyes roamed my face and proceeded to skim up and down my chest and waist. When his eyes met mine again, he took a deep breath.

His face seemed to get closer to mine and I let out a soft gasp as I felt the tips of his fingers touch my knee. He gouged my reaction.

The way he was looking at me, the feeling of his body pressed to my side, the feeling of his fingers against my bare skin... I didn't know how to think anymore. I short-circuited.

The effects of the alcohol didn't help at all.

His fingers drew small, slow circles against my skin. With each full circle, my chest rose and fell in anticipation. Atlas stopped the slow torture he was drawing against my skin causing my eyes to focus on his.

"Tell me again, Eden." He said, his voice slow and velvety. "What made you jealous?"

My cheeks burned red and a sound between a gasp and a moan left my lips when Atlas's fingers slid up and down my thigh again. "Tell me," He breathed and I tried to find my voice to answer his question.

"That girl," I managed to spit out when his fingers stopped again against my thigh.

"What about her?" He asked, his face moving an inch closer, his lips softly brushing against the line of my jaw and up and down my neck. I wanted to hold onto to something because I felt like I was falling from 30 stories.

"The way she looked at you," I bit out and my eyes fluttered closed when he pressed his hand to my thigh, slowly moving upward, but not past the ending of my dress (which was still dangerously close enough).

My whole body was alive and burning. I felt every touch a hundred times stronger from both the effects of the alcohol and the effect of Atlas being this close to me. I was barely keeping myself together and he knew it. The way his eyes took in every reaction of mine, every gasp and every shiver, made my insides curl and pool with warmness.