Stealing the Heart of Mr. Steele

[Cordelia]

Atlas sets me off like nobody else. I don't know what it is about him that irritates me more: his constant need to be right or his knight-in-shining-armor hero complex, but I can't stand to look at him right now. Maybe Magnus is right. Maybe I need to take myself and this baby far. far away from Atlas Steele and his terrible, toxic family. Maybe I won't be able to heal myself until I have some space away from all of them. "Cordelia, please wait," Atlas calls after me in a gentle, broken voice.

I turn around and he is standing where I left him, looking and lost. His clothing is wet and disheveled, his hair askew, the mark of my hand red upon his cheek.

He isn't angry or worked like am.

Atlas is sad.

"I'm sorry Cordelia," he holds out his hand. "I came out here looking for you not to take you home or tell you what you should do. I came out here to apologize."

The rain is coming down in straight sheets of water, soaking us both, but neither of us seeks shelter. We both stand here, watching one another, afraid to take the next step either forward or away.

"You aren't wrong," he continues. "I do have a bad habit of wanting to rescue everyone around me. Sometimes I'm so worried about things falling apart around me, of losing the people that I love so much, that I try to control everything." He explains. "Everyone I've ever loved has left me, Cordelia. First my mother and father, then my grandfather. Angelica..."

I clench my fist. "Of course, the love of your life," I grit through clenched teeth.

"For a while, that's what I thought she was to me too," he admits. "But I was wrong. I didn't know what love is until I realized I love you," he grins. "I think love is supposed to be hard, Cordelia. It isn't the way you feel when you first see a person or the way they make you feel when you touch," he blushes, his whole face turning pink. "It's wanting to be with them even when they make you crazy."

I take a step forward.This is property © of NôvelDrama.Org.

"Do I make you crazy, Atlas Steele?"

"Every single day," he laughs, moving closer. "You challenge me. You insult my honor and push me away when you want me to draw you closer. You're infuriatingly adorable when you argue, and you are almost always right," he huffs, "Very irritating traits if you ask me." "I don't think I did ask you," I grumble. "You self-righteous ass."

His smirk stretches into a smile. "See, there you are doing it again.

Somehow the distance between us has disappeared. We are standing face to face, the heat from our bodies creating steam as we breathe the same air.

"You're such a jerk," I huff as our foreheads touch. "Why do you keep doing things that push me away?"Why do we keep fighting?" I ask honestly. "Why do we have such a hard time understanding one another?"

"I don't know," Atlas pulls my body into his and the feeling of his heart beating next to mine makes me feet safe and loved. "I can't promise that I won't do it again. But I can promise that keep trying to find you'

"Will you now?" I gasp.

"Yes, Cordelia," he smiles. "Haven't you figured it out yet?"

He pauses our lips are almost touching. "No."

"I will always follow you." Atlas places one hand on my waist and the other on the back of my head. "You are my light."

His lips are soft and warm, gentle

and not demanding as he kisses my mouth, my eyes, and my face, showing me how much he loves me with every tiny touch. Each kiss feels like a confirmation--as if he needs to use his lip to confirm that I am there

With him and not a dream there

memory.

a

"Atlas," I cry. "can't keep doing this, I can't." My tears blend with the rainwater on my face. "I can't have you put me in second while you keep putting others first. It hurts too

much, feeling like you don't want

me."

"I always want you," he says near my ear and I feel a tingle down to my groin making it hard for me to think. "You are always on my mind."

"Then why...?"

He kisses me quiet, stopping all arguments. As I melt into his arms he holds me tighter, determined not to let me go again.

A car drives by his horn blazing and we jump apart. With a splash of gutter water we are reminded that we are not in private but standing on the side of a busy city road.

"Get a room you two!" Someone shouts from their window.

Soaking and covered in filthy street water, we both start to laugh.

"Should we go home?" I ask.

"I have a better idea," Atlas grabs my hand and pulls me along taking us both deeper into town.

"Where are you taking me?"

"You'll see," he smirks, revealing nothing. "Don't worry, it isn't far."

As we pass a familiar coffee shop I realize where we are. Just a few months ago I stood here watching him walk away with another woman, my heart breaking. "Come," he urges, pulling me across the street to a familiar five-star hotel.