all mine.

sixteen.

The library was quiet except for the soft shuffle of pages and the occasional clatter of a laptop key. Atlas and Demitra had commandeered a table near the back corner, surrounded by books and scattered notes. It was supposed to be a study date, but as usual, the plan had quickly derailed.

Demitra was animatedly talking about her and her sister's latest video idea. "So, we were thinking—hear me out, babe—meals from the UK! Like a whole segment trying to make fish and chips or, oh, shepherd's pie. Doesn't that sound fun?"

Atlas was nodding, though she wasn't exactly paying attention. Her eyes were on Demitra, who looked effortlessly beautiful even in her "study mode"—curly hair pinned up by a hair clip, glasses on, and her face glowing under the dim library lighting. She hadn't touched her notes in twenty minutes, her energy entirely focused on brainstorming ideas for her YouTube channel.

"You know," Demitra continued, her voice hushed but lively, "we could totally make it a competition. Like, who can make the most authentic dish? And maybe we—"

Atlas cut her off mid-sentence. Leaning forward, she reached out, her fingers curling gently around Demitra's throat. It wasn't tight, just enough pressure to make Demitra stop talking and meet her eyes.

"Demitra," Atlas said, her voice low and commanding, "I'ma need you to lock in, okay, mami? We can talk about the video when we get home, but for now, we need to study."

Demitra froze, her train of thought coming to a screeching halt. Her heart raced as she took in the intensity of Atlas's gaze. This wasn't the playful, teasing Atlas she was used to. This was something else entirely, something that made her stomach flip in a way that was equal parts thrilling and disorienting.

"I..." Demitra stammered, caught off guard. She blinked at Atlas, her cheeks heating under the weight of her stare. "I was just—"

"I know," Atlas interrupted, her lips twitching into a small smirk as she finally released Demitra's neck. She sat back in her chair, her demeanor shifting back to her usual laid-back self. "But we have finals coming up, mami. You're not gonna pass by talking about shepherd's pie."

Demitra narrowed her eyes, though the blush creeping up her cheeks betrayed her attempt at annoyance. "You didn't have to do all that," she muttered, reaching for her pen and glaring down at her notes.

Atlas chuckled, leaning closer across the table. "Cute."

"Atlas," Demitra said, shooting her a warning look.

"Okay, okay," Atlas said, holding her hands up in mock surrender.

The pair settled into a somewhat productive rhythm after that. Atlas focused on her graphic design notes, her sketches sprawled across the table, while Demitra attempted to make sense of her psychology readings. But the tension lingered, a crackling energy between them that neither of them could ignore for long.

Every so often, Atlas would glance up from her work, catching Demitra chewing on the end of her pen or twirling a strand of hair around her finger. It was distracting, to say the least.

"Mami," Atlas said finally, breaking the silence.

"What?" Demitra asked without looking up, her voice clipped.

"You're not even reading that page," Atlas pointed out, nodding toward her book.

Demitra's head snapped up. "Excuse me?"

Atlas grinned, leaning back in her chair. "I've been watching you flip the same page back and forth for the last five minutes. You're not fooling anyone, baby."

Demitra's jaw dropped, and she tossed her pen onto the table with an exaggerated groan. "Ugh, fine! You win. I'm not focused. Happy now?"

"Very," Atlas said, her grin widening. "Wanna tell me what's distracting you?"

Demitra glared at her, but the corners of her lips twitched. "You're so smug, you know that?"

"And you're stalling," Atlas countered, her amber eyes sparkling with mischief.

For a moment, they just stared at each other, the tension from earlier sparking back to life. Atlas tilted her head, her gaze dipping to Demitra's lips.

Before she could stop herself, she leaned across the table, her hand brushing against Atlas's as she whispered, "You're distracting me, Papi."

Atlas's smirk faltered, replaced by something softer, something warmer. She reached out, her fingers trailing along the back of Demitra's hand. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Demitra said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Atlas leaned in closer and pecked her lips, once, twice, three times before Demitra deepened the kiss, tilting her head to the side, feeling her tongue slip into her mouth, until the sound of someone clearing their throat nearby shattered the bubble.

They both jumped, pulling back as a librarian shot them a pointed look from across the room.

"Sorry," Demitra mumbled, sinking lower in her chair as the librarian walked away.

Atlas chuckled, shaking her head. "Come on," she said, packing up her sketchbook and notes. "Let's get out of here before we get kicked out."

Demitra didn't protest. She gathered her things, her heart still racing as they made their way out of the library and into the cool night air.

"You're an ass," she said as they walked side by side toward Atlas's apartment.

"And yet, here you are," Atlas teased, nudging her playfully.

Demitra rolled her eyes, but she couldn't hide the smile tugging at her lips. "Shut up."

Atlas laughed, throwing an arm around her shoulders. "Whatever you say, mami. Whatever you say."

Atlas is so foine omg🤧

I legit forgot about this book bc im working on a two new ones so its been in the back of my mind for a bit.