{ @castawcys }
women came to atlas. it had always been that way. he never asked for it. never expected it. and nine times out of ten, didn’t want it. but he himself never found himself looking for one. or looking at one. and yet here he was, sat in the damn diner, eyes looking at something that wasn’t the pages before him. he didn’t frequent this place often. he’d stumbled across it one hungover morning. however, it was more the person he’d found within it that drew him back. her long brunette hair, equally dark eyes. atlas normally found muse in the fire, and yet the past week, this new darkness had fueled the pages in his journal.




