36. Chapter 36
Chapter thirty-six
Atlas
Atlas carried dinner to the house last. He spread bagels on the table, along with several ration bars and a sack of ingredients to make crackers like Anna had earlier. “Here you go. Everything bland I could find.”
Anna clapped her hands. “Perfect.”
“And.” He stepped outside the house and returned a second later with a toaster oven. He tapped on the top. “Ta da!”
“Oh.” Her eyes widened. “An oven? Really?”
“Yes!”
“Does it work just like a big one?” She inspected every knob on the oven, as if there was something more complicated hidden on it than there should be.
“On a smaller scale, yes. It’s fully charged, so maybe test it in the morning?”
“Okay!” She kept spinning the knobs. “Thank you. For both this and your plant.” She gave a quick grin. “I’ll make you something tomorrow. Zero too.”
The way she smiled made the whole room brighter. The room, the yard. . .everything in his life now.
“Alright.” Atlas ducked his head. “It makes me happy seeing you happy.”
A blush ran over her features. “Do you want to eat?”
“I ate earlier, but . . .” He rummaged in one of the grocery bags. “I brought some of the foods I like as well; it’s a sweeter type of bar. I’d offer you some, but sweets and you don’t seem to agree.”
“No.” Anna shuddered. “The bagels are more than enough.”
Atlas put his meals away in the cabinet. She didn’t comment on what his sugar compounds implied—that he wouldn’t need to leave to charge. And, like usual, he didn’t know quite what to say himself.
Because he had no intention of leaving her this evening. None at all. Unless, of course, she didn’t want him there.
Once Anna finished, night had fallen. She stood, brushing dust off her lap. “Can we sit outside a minute?”
“Sure.” He closed the cabinet and opened the front door. “After you?”
Atlas followed Anna outside. Honestly, he would have followed her anywhere right then, but she brought him to the same log they sat at earlier.
“Over here?” She tugged on his sweater, pulling him down next to her.
Atlas complied, glancing upward. He sent a signal requesting the drones be pulled. To his surprise, the request was approved again.
She leaned on him. “Already I can feel I’m going to spend a lot of time sitting out here.”
He barely moved. The press of her body on his made every sensor come alive, branding him. The air was crisp, but it no longer touched him. “Are you already building habits?”
“The best kind.” She threaded her arm in his. “In the morning, can we go to that milking area on the other side? Like you said?”
“We can, yes. But why?”
She pointed up at the drone, far in the distance. “I want to show them that we’re trying to help with something.”
“You don’t need to perform for them.”
“I know. I know.” She relaxed, pressing further into him. “But since I’m not going to those dinners, I want to be seen doing something. I don’t want to talk with Stella or give her any reason to come here.”
“You won’t,” he said. “I told her not to bother you.”
“You can do that?”
“Yes,” Atlas spat out. “Stella said her piece and made her deal. There’s no reason to come now other than to cause trouble.”
“Well, if she does, I’ll bake something.” She grinned. “I’ve got the ingredients now. I’ll be so kind it will kill her.”
“Good,” he put his hand over hers. “The phrase is kill them with kindness, but she’s still not allowed here.”
“Alright, alright. I’ll save my baking for you.” Anna rested her head on his shoulder. “You’ve been the best. Thanks for bringing everything. It really feels like home here now.”
“Of course, Anna.”
She hummed a few notes on his shoulder and then fell into silence.
Only this time, he noticed every shifting of her muscles on his left side.
The press of her cheek on his shoulder. How she began to lean heavier on him the longer they sat.
He adjusted for every minute change, every hum.
And leaned closer, feeling her steady pulse.
Rightness fell into every part of him. This was a moment he could freeze in and live in forever.
And he did, until there was a change in her breathing.
Atlas whispered. “Anna?”
She was asleep. Her face gentled in the setting sun, resting on his arm.
His gaze softened. Her heartbeat was slow and steady, not fighting against the neurochip’s restraints.
Which meant she either trusted that nothing would hurt her here, or she was too tired from walking around and moving boxes all day.
Atlas’s processors warmed. It was probably a bit of everything.
But the important thing was she felt safe here. Safe enough to sleep. Finally. Even if it was a struggle for her.
“Well.” He mumbled down to her. She was asleep here on his arm. “What do I do now?”
He already wasn’t planning on leaving, but he’d wanted to talk about it with her first.
When she was awake. So now what?
He refused to move a circuit, not wanting to disturb her. Her lips were slightly parted, and her brown hair made a halo around her heart-shaped face. Everything in him flushed. She looked so peaceful.
Well. Anna was peaceful. Another part of her was not at all.
The baby in her belly was so active that Anna’s belly moved as little feet pressed on the side from the inside. Atlas watched, fascinated. He counted the kicks for a minute, watching her belly move. “I see you too. You’re busy in there.”
He tentatively reached out and put a hand on her belly. Little feet pressed back on his hands. “You’re going to come out soon.”
She was, wasn't she?
Anna was due in a few weeks. Atlas had been a part of hundreds, thousands, of births. His hand stilled. Sometimes excess medical knowledge could be a curse. Childbirth could be dangerous.
When Clara passed away, he didn’t feel much other than confusion about what he should do with his time, and then he moved on to his plants and projects. And he never felt anxiety like this as she aged.
Already, he cared more for Anna. The thought of anything happening to her. . .Everything in him seized up. Logically, he knew everything about childbirth but how could you predict the unknown?
Humans. They are so fragile. But then the baby kicked, visually moving as Anna slept. But they are also capable of this.
Anna sank lower on his shoulder. He fingered a stray piece of hair that fell over her cheek, then shifted himself to compensate and not jar her. She should be inside. Sitting here was not ideal. As much as he enjoyed this, the sooner he moved her the better.
He slid his arms under hers. “Anna?”
“Mmmph.”
She stirred against his chest, making every sensor ache. “You’ll sleep better lying down.”
“. . . Sorry. I’m sorry.” She halfheartedly pushed against his chest. “I’ll go do it right now, Paul.”
“Anna?” He frowned, touching her cheek. “Do what?”
“Oh!” Her eyes opened. Then she sagged back against him. “Crud, I fell asleep. Pregnancy and everything is wearing me out.”
The fading sunlight gentled her features. Sleepy and soft. And so warm. He slid his arms under her, lifting. “Let’s get you inside.”
“Atlas? You don’t . . .” Her heart began pounding into his chest. “I can walk.”
“Okay.” Reluctantly he placed her down, back on her feet. Arms lingering around her, resisting the urge to pull her closer. But he settled for holding her elbow, walking until they were back inside.
Anna went straight for the bed, sitting on its edge. “I’m so tired. I can’t believe I fell asleep out there.”
Atlas sat down next to her, close, and put his hand on her lap. “I’m glad you did. It means you feel safe here.”
“Yeah. I do.” She took her hand in his. “Are you going to go charge?”
“I could, but . . .” Meeting her eyes, he said, “Anna? I . . . don’t want to leave you tonight.”
“Oh . . .” Her breathing picked up. “I don’t want you to either.”
He cupped under her chin. “I feel a connection with you. I don’t fully understand it, but . . .” He moved his face closer, until it was only an inch away. “Tell me. Are you curious about me as well?”
Atlas held his breath, watching the emotions play across her face.
“Yes. Heaven help me, I am.” She rubbed both her cheeks, covering her mouth. “I’m scared.”
He stared at her. Sleepy eyes, red lips, messy hair. Beautiful. “. . . Come here, Anna.
He scooped her in close, cradling her against his chest, then pushed the hair out of her face and ran his hand down its length.
The feel of her in his arms sent a rush through his sensory cortex, along with an overwhelming sense of rightness.
Was it this simple all along? He put his head over the top of hers, suddenly laughing. “I was such a fool.”
“A fool?”
“Yes. All my analyzing. Resisting my feelings.” He tightened his arms. “When really, this is so simple. It finally feels right.”
“It does.” She turned her face, pressing it into his chest. “. . . How did I not see any of this coming?”
Atlas pressed his lips to her forehead, murmuring against her skin. “Because, Anna, nothing about you follows the usual patterns.”