⊱—⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅—⋅༻✧༺⋅—⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅—⊰
The mysterious woman’s words sent a chill down Atlas’ spine. Not only were they both experiencing an odd sense of deja vu, but she claimed to be a new student. He struggled to keep his smile as his mind travelled across his memories, wondering just where he’d seen her face before. There was one particular person on his mind from the beginning, but he simply couldn’t believe it. There was no chance, it had to be a trick.
Atlas forced a weak laugh. “A new student? My, you’re funny,” he spoke, attempting to shrug off his doubts. “You want to play a guessing game? I’m intrigued. But a fair warning, you won’t discover me so easily, I aim to keep my identity hidden for tonight,” he winked playfully, taking a sip from his drink.
But despite his relaxed exterior, the nagging feeling in the back of his mind persisted. The more he thought about it, the more clues he noticed. Though her face might’ve changed through the years, her voice sounded eerily familiar to the woman in his memories. His thoughts went back to a different time, back to his high school days where they’d first met. But there was something different about the person standing in front of him. Her mannerisms and body language were off, as if she were nervous. But Atlas was left clueless of what caused it. She claimed to be dizzy, but the way she was acting suggested otherwise. Atlas’ brows furrowed in concern, as she struggled to even look up at him.
He took a step back to give her space, but kept his eyes on her. “Are you sure? You look really unwell, but I might be assuming,” he spoke in a softer tone.
The person then excused herself, apologizing to Atlas. He paused in reluctance, before speaking, “Wait, maybe you should sit down—” he cut himself off in uncertainty as she took a step forward to leave. “I’m sorry, I—”
And just then, he noticed the way her body began to sway. Before he could even process it, she’d lost her balance and fell forward into him. “Esther—” Atlas gasped. The glass she’d been holding shattered on the ground, liquid spilling across the floor. He stepped forward to support her with his weight, putting an arm around her to hold her up. “I mean, no, I… Not Esther…” he stammered, his breath catching in his throat. The music and voices around him combined into a loud, disorienting noise, as ringing filled his ears.
Atlas frantically looked around the room, looking for the nearest place to put her down. His eyes landed on an empty bench next to the wall. He put his own glass on a nearby table, freeing both his arms to lift her up. He made his way to the sofa with a quickened pace, laying the woman down on it.
The first thing he did was put a finger against the side of her throat, feeling for a pulse. “Please don’t be dead, don’t be dead…” he mumbled to himself. Once he felt a faint heartbeat, Atlas sighed in relief. His shaky hand reached up to the collar of his shirt, tugging on it as the atmosphere seemed to turn suffocating. He stood helplessly next to the bench, unsure of how to even proceed. Does he call for help? Wait until she wakes up on her own? He didn’t even know first aid.
“Wake up, come on… I… I don’t know what to do!” he shouted, his eyes darting across the room to find a solution. “Damn it… If it really is you, then you seem to have a thing for—” he cut off, noticing another woman’s eyes on them.
Atlas waved to her, hoping she’d notice what was going on. Though he hated the way he was acting, so in that moment he forced a weak smile, hoping the mask hid the rest of his expression.