Chapter 243: You’re Mine Now. Remember That
[Short Flashback]
"How do you even write these scenes without experiencing them?"
Silo had his eyes covered with his hands, his fingers spread just enough to peek at her illustrations. The tips of his ears reddened at the explicit drawing. He and Lola were seated on the floor around the small table in her tiny apartment.
"Oh, my god!"
Lola chuckled as she retrieved her tablet from him. "Goodness. Silo, you’re already old. Don’t you watch porn?!"
"Hey!"
"Hahaha." She laughed, snapping her eyes back to the explicit illustrations she had drawn. "I don’t need experience for these. All I need is imagination."
She smacked her lips, her mind drifting briefly. She only snapped out of it when Silo suddenly asked,
"Where did you get the inspiration this time?"
"Huh?"
"This new character," he pointed out. "You always base your characters on people. So who is this guy? A celebrity?"
Lola blinked, then answered him with a smile. He still nagged as usual, but she didn’t budge. Once Silo left, Lola idled on the floor, staring at the new character design she had drawn. Moments later, she closed the tab and checked the business news out of curiosity.
The most recent article she read, not long ag,o automatically popped up. Displayed on the screen was someone she had known from the past.
Atlas Bennet.
"If Silo just looked closely, he wouldn’t have asked," she muttered, the corners of her lips curling. "Goodness. How does this guy just get better-looking with age? He’s still as dreamy as I remembered him."
****
The warm morning sun filtered through the window, hitting her shut eyes directly. Her brows knitted as her eyes flickered beneath her lids. A soft groan escaped her dry throat before she slowly opened her eyes.
Lola blinked weakly, taking in the sight around her: the same wooden walls and furniture. She gulped, glancing at the window where greenery and trees basked in the morning light.
Last night...
"..." Lola stilled, feeling her body for any signs. There was none. No pain, no soreness, nothing.
A shallow breath slipped from her lips as she closed her eyes again. "It was a dream, wasn’t it?"
Damn it.
A wave of disappointment swelled in her chest, making her feel pathetic. She dreamed of him with her eyes closed and even with them open. Pathetic to be fantasizing about a man who could be hers... or not.
Her dry lips quivered; she bit down lightly. A faint tang of iron brushed her taste buds, but she ignored it, keeping her eyes shut to recompose herself. She tried to muster the courage to move, to get up, to pretend her mind hadn’t taken her to heaven, only for her to wake to reality.
But then, the door opened.
Lola’s eyes opened instinctively. She turned her head, catching Atlas stepping out of the small bathroom with only a towel hanging around his waist.
His torso was bare, with toned muscles glistening with droplets of water trickling down his abs. He dried his hair with a towel as he stopped in front of the closet to grab clothes.
Should I blame him for my declining mental health for walking around like this? Or should I blame my dirty mind?
Before she could answer her own thought, Atlas turned his head in her direction. The moment his eyes landed on her, she quickly shut hers and turned away.
"I saw you were awake," he said evenly, pulling out a pair of clothes. Instead of changing, he walked over and sat at the edge of the bed.
Lola’s eyes squeezed shut tighter at the shift of weight beside her. A moment later, the mattress dipped on her other side until his minty breath brushed her cheek.
"Still pretending to sleep?"
She clutched the bedsheet, determined to play dead. Not because she had a problem with him, but out of shame. She’d stripped this man naked a million times in her mind—it was humiliating.
"One," he said, pausing. "Two."
Her lips pressed together. She winced and reluctantly looked back at him. His face hovered close, one hand pressed into the mattress beside her head.
A flicker of satisfaction glinted in his eyes. "Hurt anywhere?" His voice was still flat, but now laced with concern.
"Why would I get hurt?" she blurted. "I just slept."
He blinked at her strange answer.
"Are we going home today?" She asked, her voice hoarse and low.
"Do you want to go back?"
She nodded.
"Can you?" He asked again.
"Of course."
Atlas studied her, reading the emotions peeking through her blank look. After a moment, he nodded.
"Once you get up, I’ll send you back," he said, pushing himself up. Standing beside the bed, he picked up the shirt lying beside her and pulled it on. "The twins and I will be staying for the next three days."
Lola watched him dress, her breath hitching when he reached for the towel at his waist. The moment it fell, she snapped her gaze away.
Atlas noticed. "What’s the problem?"
"No—nothing." She stammered. "I mean... isn’t there another place for you to change? There’s someone here, you know."
"I know."
Her face soured, her head still turned. A moment later, he said, "Done." Yet she didn’t look.
"Need help getting up?" he asked.
"No." Without turning, Lola cleared her throat. "I’ll get up now..."
Her voice trailed off when she tried moving. From the neck down, her body was... sore. Not like after skipping the gym, but as if the gym itself had hit her. Hard. She was... paralyzed.
Her eyes slowly dilated as she turned her head toward him. He stood with his arms crossed, watching her.
"It seems you can’t get up." His brows rose, amusement swirling in his eyes. The corners of his mouth curled subtly as he sat back down on the edge of the bed, his hand pressing beside her head.
Leaning in, he placed a soft kiss on her lips, then drew back, leaving only inches between them.
"Last night..." he murmured, brushing her cheek with the back of his hand. "...it happened."
He paused, brows lifting slightly. "You’re mine now. Remember that."