ATLAS' POV
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Ever the mighty soldier had passed out on the couch, and even though it tires me every single night, I wait until she's fast asleep before putting her into bed. I wouldn't be surprised if she woke up one morning and just stabbed me, or hit me with something, perhaps her fists. She'd cry so much, and I suddenly found myself wishing I could teleport myself into her thoughts and listen to them. I wish that I could dry her tears without her flinching like I might hit her, but tonight, as she sat in my lap, she didn't flinch. She didn't revolt at the feel of my touch, she didn't run away, but merely walked.
Every muscle inside of my body wanted to tense and wrap around her, to hold her to my chest and whisper to her how beautiful she actually was, and a teeny tiny part of me wa
