26 | ☕Zoo-tiful Chaos A Date to Remember ☕ #2
He just smiled at her, completely unrepentant, before turning his attention back to the flamingos.
It didn't end there. As they wandered through the zoo, Atlas became even more engrossed with the animals.
At one point, they passed by a family of meerkats.
Atlas crouched down, leaning in as if trying to communicate with them in some form.
Anya stood awkwardly to the side, watching in bemusement as he signed something rapidly at the meerkats.
She walked over, tapping his shoulder. "What did you say to them?"
He looked at her with that same intensity. Then, in a fluid motion, he signed again:
"If I were a meerkat, I would be the king."
Anya bit her lip, trying not to burst into laughter. "Of course you would," she said, giving up and breaking into a giggle. "A flamingo and a meerkat king? You're a zoo in human form."
Atlas flashed a mischievous grin, clearly enjoying her reaction, then stood up and brushed his hands off like he'd just completed a royal audience with the meerkats.
As they continued through the exhibits, Anya made a mental note that she might just be dating the world's most eccentric CEO. But at least he had a good sense of humour. Even if he did want to start a zoo at home.
By the time they reached the penguin enclosure, Atlas's fascination had grown to the point where he was now gesturing wildly with his hands—well, signing wildly, that is—directing his attention to the penguins.
Anya watched, deadpan, as he signed something that seemed to be a full-on philosophical essay about penguin behaviour.
When she asked, "What exactly are you signing?" he signed back, his expression absolutely serious:
"They waddle like they have no care in the world."
Anya stared, trying to maintain her composure, but the ridiculousness of the situation hit her all at once, and she snorted.
She put a hand on his shoulder, shaking her head with a smile. "Alright, I've seen enough. Let's go before you start making demands for a penguin, too."
But Atlas, still completely absorbed, gave her a half-hearted shrug and signed back, "I'll take a penguin if you insist."
They walked side by side, their hands almost brushing with each step, but neither of them made any attempt to break the unspoken boundary.
Anya was still getting used to the subtle tension that lingered whenever she was close to him.
Despite being with him for weeks now, she couldn't help but feel a flutter every time their fingers nearly touched.
Her thoughts were interrupted when Atlas slowed down as they approached the reptile section of the zoo.
Anya glanced at him, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. "Wait. Don't tell me you're scared of snakes."
Atlas's eyes flickered to her before he looked pointedly at the reptile enclosures. Without saying a word, he started to walk away from the area, clearly avoiding the snakes.
Anya's jaw dropped. "Are you serious?" She stood there for a moment, blinking at his retreating form. "You can make business executives cry, but you're afraid of one little snake?"
Atlas halted mid-step, turned to her, and gave her a flat, unimpressed look. Then, dramatically, he signed:
"Snakes are evil."
Anya blinked. Then, she lost it. She burst into laughter, unable to hold it in.
She pressed her hand to her stomach as the sound of her giggles rang out through the zoo.
"You're afraid of snakes... because they're evil?"
She gasped for breath between fits of laughter. "Oh my God, Atlas, you're too much!"
Atlas crossed his arms, his expression unamused as he stood firm, refusing to back down. He signed again, slow and deliberate:
"They have no legs."
Anya clutched her chest, gasping for air. "What does that even mean? You're seriously scared of legless creatures?" she gasped between laughs. "Snakes aren't planning to take over the world. They just want to chill in the grass!"
Atlas's gaze softened a little, his seriousness not fading. He signed with a solemn look:
"Have you ever looked into their eyes? Cold. Unforgiving."
Anya was now doubled over with laughter, sitting down on a nearby bench as she tried to regain some composure. "I... I can't believe this. I never imagined I'd see the day when a CEO of a huge company is afraid of snakes." She wiped a tear from her eye, still chuckling. "This is priceless."
Atlas shot her one last deadpan look, but the slightest hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
"Well," she finally managed to say, "I guess we can skip the snake exhibit for now. Let's go see something less evil." She patted the space next to her on the bench. "Come on, let's get out of here before the snakes gang up on you."
After recovering from her snake-induced hysteria, Anya and Atlas continued their adventure, moving toward the monkey exhibit.
They stood by the railing, watching a group of monkeys swinging from branch to branch.
The monkeys were loud and chaotic, constantly moving, their energy infectious.
One particularly mischievous monkey caught Anya's attention when it grabbed a piece of fruit, eyed it like it was a precious artifact, and then turned its gaze straight toward Atlas.
Anya raised an eyebrow. "No way," she murmured under her breath. "He's staring at you."
Atlas didn't even flinch. He just stood there, coffee cup in hand, eyes locked on the monkey. Anya squinted, trying to get a read on him.
And then, out of nowhere, the monkey hurled the piece of fruit at Atlas, hitting him square in the chest.
Anya's jaw dropped, and before she could even process what had happened, Atlas surprised her.
Without missing a beat, he grabbed the fruit, squinted at the monkey, and in one swift motion, tossed it right back at the offending primate.
The fruit soared through the air, and with an impressive (or terrifying) aim, hit the monkey squarely on the head.
Anya stared at him, wide-eyed. "Did... did you just throw fruit back at a monkey?" she asked, incredulous.
Atlas gave her a slow blink, his face completely stoic as if he hadn't just acted like a child in the middle of a zoo. He signed, without a hint of regret:
"He started it."
Anya clutched her stomach, struggling to suppress her laughter. "I can't believe you just did that!" she wheezed. "You're like a child!"
Atlas raised an eyebrow at her and gave a small, shrugging gesture, signing again:
"What can I say? He challenged me."
The monkey, now thoroughly confused, stared at the fruit on the ground and then at Atlas, as if it was trying to comprehend what just happened. A moment later, it scurried off to join its friends, seemingly embarrassed by the turn of events.
Anya was in stitches. "Atlas, I can't with you," she gasped. "You literally just had a fruit fight with a monkey."
Atlas took a slow sip of his coffee, totally unbothered by the situation. His lips quirked up into a slight smirk as he signed again:
"It was self-defence."
Anya leaned against the railing, wiping a tear from her eye. "Self-defence? From a monkey? Oh my god, you're impossible."
He gave her a teasing look, his smirk growing wider. Then he signed, half-joking:
"If they start it again, I'll throw something bigger."
Anya shook her head in disbelief, still giggling. "You really are a menace, you know that?"
As they wandered through the zoo, Atlas kept an eye on the crowd, his sharp gaze flicking between the different exhibits.
Anya, blissfully unaware, continued enjoying the animals, laughing at Atlas's antics with the flamingos and even the monkeys.
But Atlas wasn't focused on the animals anymore.
He'd noticed something unsettling—mysterious figures lurking just out of sight.
They were hidden behind trees and bushes, their movements too deliberate to be accidental.
Reporters.
They'd been trying to get a piece of him for weeks now.
He'd given them just enough to keep them off his back before—an excuse about enjoying his downtime at the café, avoiding the truth of his relationship with Anya.
But now, they were back, circling like vultures, hoping to catch something worth printing.
Atlas didn't want to worry Anya. She was already having a good time, laughing, smiling—he didn't want to ruin it.
So, he kept quiet, his attention flicking between her and the reporters.
They were far enough away, hidden in the trees, so he didn't think they would be able to get close enough to take pictures.
But the unease still nagged at him, just beneath the surface.
He didn't let it show, though. Not yet.