18

~Darlina's POV~

Confusion hit me when I woke up the next morning, realizing that I was in my bed with my shoes off but my outfit and makeup from last night still on. I groaned as I sat up, my bones cracking from having laid down for so long.

Thankfully because I hadn't had too much to drink, I didn't have a hangover and I very vividly remembered Atlas carrying me into Emmett's truck. A flush crept of my neck as I recalled how I had clung to him so shamelessly, running my hands through my hair as if it would rid me of my embarrassment. I should've known better than to drink last night, not that I had even had much, but I was a lightweight and I always had been. It didn't take much for me to get tipsy.

Even so, I had gotten more than a little tipsy last night and Emmett had gotten utterly drunk, which had left Atlas as the only sober one of us three. I felt a little bad that he had taken care of me, helped me into the car and, I assumed, been the one that brought me to my room. I certainly didn't remember doing it myself, and Emmett had been too drunk to walk himself very stably.

I shook my head and climbed out of my bed, pulling down my skirt when I realized it had shifted up during the night while I was sleeping. I headed into the bathroom and cringed at the sight of myself, hating that I had fallen asleep with my makeup still on, which I never did.

After I turned on the shower and waited for the water to heat up, I quickly took off all of my makeup and got undressed, stepping into the shower once I was done. I stretched my arms as I stood beneath the stream of hot water, my wet hair slicking down my back. Though I took a little longer in the shower than usual, I felt much better after I got out, wrapping myself in a towel. Once I finished getting dressed I exited my room, my stomach growling as I walked down the hallway.

Not to my surprise, Atlas was the only other one awake when I entered the living room, his large frame taking up much of the space on the couch. I hesitated before I skittered away to the kitchen, still a little bit too embarrassed to say anything to him yet. First I just needed to make breakfast and get some food in my stomach, then I'd have no problem approaching him.

With that in mind I began making blueberry muffins and bacon, grabbing myself a vanilla yogurt from the fridge while the muffins were finishing up in the oven. I shut the fridge and turned around, squealing in alarm when I realized that Atlas had been silently leaning against the end of the island counter for who knows how long, not saying anything. Clutching a hand over my chest above my racing heart, I let out a nervous giggle. "You scared me." I told him, getting no response as per usual. "How long have you been standing there?" I asked instead. He merely shrugged his shoulders.

"Maybe five minutes. Wasn't really counting." He murmured, stretching his arms over his head. His biceps flexed and the bottom of his shirt lifted a little, just enough for me to get a glimpse of the tattoos covering the tan skin leading to the band of his boxers that stuck out slightly from his sweatpants.

I turned my head to stare at the stove, almost certainly blushing bright red. It shouldn't have surprised me that he was so tattooed, but my mind seemed to have short circuited or something because I was stunned and oddly overwhelmed by it.

Realizing that I was borderline crushing my container of yogurt with the way I was clutching it, I set it down on the counter. "Um," I cleared my throat and risked another look at him, refraining from sighing in relief when I saw his shirt was in normal place. "I'm just making blueberry muffins and bacon for breakfast, if you're okay with that. We also have some yogurt and fruits in the fridge." I told him, pointing a thumb behind me at the fridge.

Atlas shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair, brushing the strands back only for them to fall right back into place again. I watched him, a little stumped by how handsome he was doing the simplest of things, and then looked down at the counter when he met my gaze. How embarrassing.

"Sounds good, smalls." He husked out, the nickname getting under my skin a little. I peeked up at him with a frown on my lips. "I'm not small, you know." I said defensively, crossing my arms over my chest.

His eyes lazily dragged down the length of my frame and back up again. "Coulda fooled me." He muttered under his breath.

My cheeks warmed with humiliation and I sputtered. "Y-You...Well, you're a giant!" I exclaimed weakly, unable to come up with an insult. His eyebrow cocked up slightly and a smirk tugged at the edge of his lips, clearly amused.

For a second I thought he'd reply, say something at all, and maybe a part of me even hoped for it, honestly. He didn't, though. Instead, he just nodded his head in the direction of the oven, a glint of amusement still shining in his eyes. "You might wanna check those muffins." He suggested, causing me to gasp as I realized that they had already been in the oven for a while. I grabbed an oven mitt and slipped it on, rushing over to carefully open it in order to peek at the state of the muffins.

Thankfully, they looked as though they were just right, so I turned off the oven and pulled them out. My stomach rumbled at the smell as it filled the kitchen, and Atlas suddenly leaned against the counter beside me, causing me to flick my eyes up to him in surprise. I took off the oven mitt and set it to my right, biting my bottom lip. "You're quite the lightweight." He mentioned.

Widening my eyes, I fumbled with the strings on my shorts as I peered up at him. "Yeah, I know. I don't drink very often because of it." I admitted in a grumble, embarrassed. Though I wished I was someone that could hold their liquor, I just wasn't, which I had learned very quickly after I turned twenty one last year.

He chuckled, the sound husky and low, doing weird things to my insides. It was a nice sound, I decided.

"And, um, thank you." I added quickly, looking away as his gaze weighed heavily on the side of my face. "You didn't have to carry me like that last night, and you probably didn't want to either, but it was nice of you to do it anyway." I said, finally meeting his gaze when I could no longer ignore his staring.

We just looked at each other for a few seconds before he gave a little nod of his head, shrugging a shoulder. "It wasn't a big deal." He responded, shoving his hands into his pockets as he looked away. I beamed, turning around to grab two small plates from the cabinet. "Well I don't know about you, but I'm hungry." I told him as I handed him his plate, grabbing myself two muffins, a couple strips of bacon and my vanilla yogurt from the counter. Atlas began getting his food as well, though he opted for a lot of bacon and two muffins with some fruit—strawberries in particular.

The two of us entered the living room and I waited for him to sit down in his spot on the couch before joining him on the same one, just at the opposite end. He looked at me when I did so, but I paid him no mind and instead just happily started eating.

Honestly I wondered if he might move to the opposite couch just from the way he'd looked at me, but he didn't. He merely quietly ate his breakfast, not saying anything about it.