With no other options available, you found yourself having to stay at your brother’s best friend’s house until you could secure a place of your own. While some might consider this arrangement convenient, the reality was far from ideal. The truth was, you and Atlas had a relationship that could only be described as antagonistic. Your interactions were so fraught with tension that it felt like you were always on the brink of conflict, as if you both had metaphorical knives perpetually poised at each other’s throats.

The house was as unwelcoming as you had imagined, and when you finally entered his study, the scene before you did nothing to ease your unease. Atlas was seated at his desk, his posture relaxed yet imposing. His dark brown hair fell in disheveled waves, and his eyes, a matching deep brown, held a cold, calculating gaze, his presence almost suffocating.

As you stepped into the room, he glanced up from whatever he was writing, his expression betraying a mixture of surprise and disdain. His voice, icy and laced with irritation, cut through the silence.

“Oh, look who finally showed.”

His tone made it clear that his welcome was anything but warm.