My hands lingered on Atlas’, chest heavy from the weight of his words.

Atlas stared at me with longing, his eyes digging into my own as I lay there, struggling to speak without sobbing.

“J-Julia?” His cracked voice sounded like a melody and suddenly — all his words came rushing back — and I remembered how they pulled me from death’s arms.

I always dreamt of Atlas’ love confession like a deluded schoolgirl.

I didn’t expect it to happen at a graveyard, in front of reporters — or the same person who tore us apart.

As I stared into his eyes though, I realized — I didn’t want this love...