MADELINE'S POV -- It wasn't dark, not completely. The sky is gray behind me, the color long lost as I rush up the stairs, but around the middle floor two strong hands grasp me, pulling me into the hall. Every bone had snap ramrod straight, and even after meeting those familiar gray eyes, they remained stiff. "Why are you running?" Atlas asks, concern in his voice, alertness swirling in his eyes. His grip on my arm is still firm, not tight to hurt, but firm as if he needed to hold me whenever I crumbled. But there's no reason to crumble. "I was going heading to the bathroom," I stare up at him, moving again. A rosy color taints his cheeks as he lets me go, "I apologize," he murmurs, half a smile now playing on those inticing lips. Those lips that came so close to brushing mine. I nod, t

