27 | ☕Flamingo Fury Atlas Valtieri Puts Reporters in Their Place ☕ #2
"This is exactly what I didn't want," he signed, his movements sharp and quick, the air between them heavy with the weight of his frustration.
He barely seemed to notice the tremor of his own hands, the urgency in every word he signed.
"They can go after me all they want, but no one messes with her."
He turned to Kaia, his face hardening, and with a swift motion of his hands, signed sharply, "Call security. Get them to handle it. Now."
Kaia didn't hesitate, her fingers dialling the number with precision, the look in her eyes making it clear that she knew better than to argue with Atlas when he was in this mood.
The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife.
She spoke quickly into the phone, giving instructions to the security team as if she'd done this a hundred times before, knowing that even a moment's delay could cause things to spiral further out of control.
Anya stood there in the backroom, still stunned into silence.
She didn't know what to do, or what to say.
Her heart hammered in her chest, and it wasn't just the shock of seeing Atlas like this—it was everything.
The reporters outside, the whirlwind of attention, the fact that it was all happening to her, to them.
The quiet life she'd been living was slipping away from her grasp, and the reality of it all was just starting to sink in.
She blinked, not sure how to respond, the rawness of the moment catching her off guard.
She wasn't used to seeing him like this—angry, sure, but not at her, not at the situation.
She had always known Atlas as calm, collected, his silence a part of him that exuded quiet strength. But this? This was something else.
Anya's throat felt tight. The weight of his words, the gravity behind his emotions, hit her harder than she expected.
She didn't know what to say, or how to express the mess of emotions swirling inside of her.
I didn't sign up for this either, she wanted to say.
But all that came out was, "I just wanted a normal date with you."
Atlas's brow furrowed in frustration, his body stiffening again, but this time it was clear he wasn't frustrated with her. He signed quickly, the words flowing from his hands like a rush of wind. "I know. And this isn't fair to you. But I promise, I'll handle it. They won't get near you again."
Kaia, who had been listening to the phone call, gave a small nod and ended the conversation. "Security's on their way," she reported, her voice a little more at ease now that there was a plan in place.
Atlas nodded sharply, still clearly agitated, but his manner was settling. "Good." He turned back to Anya, his eyes softening slightly, though that protective fire still burned in them. "I've got you, okay? No more reporters, no more nonsense."
Anya's pulse began to slow, the weight of the situation lifting just enough to breathe again. She glanced at the newspaper in her hands one more time, and then back at him, a hesitant smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "Well, I guess this is what we call a wild second date, huh?"
Atlas let out a sharp breath, almost a chuckle, though it didn't quite reach his eyes.
The fire in his gaze didn't fully dissipate, but the humour in his small smile helped ease some of the tension in the room.
"Yeah, well. I'll make it up to you. No more zoo dates. How about a quiet night in with no photographers?"
Anya laughed softly, her shoulders finally loosening from the weight of the day. "Sounds like a plan."
"How are you going to handle the reporters outside, Atlas?" Kaia asked.
Atlas's smirk turned into something more mischievous, an almost playful glint flashing in his eyes. He pushed himself off the counter with a fluid motion, his movements sharp. "Oh, I'm not going out there to make a scene," he signed, his hands slow but deliberate. "I'll handle it... calmly."
Anya blinked at him, utterly perplexed. "What are you going to do?"
He shrugged nonchalantly, giving her a faint, enigmatic smile as he turned toward the back door. "I'm going to do what any reasonable man would do."
"Atlas," Anya warned, a knot of anxiety tightening in her stomach. She could already feel the tension rising, her instincts telling her this wasn't going to be as simple as he was making it sound.
But Atlas didn't reply immediately. Instead, he walked toward the back door with that same calculated grace. With a push of the door, he disappeared into the alley behind the café, leaving Anya and Kaia in the backroom, hearts pounding in sync with the rising uncertainty.
Anya moved toward the window, Kaia right behind her.
They peered out through the glass, watching as Atlas walked toward the cluster of reporters who were still huddled outside, their cameras aimed at the café door.
There was a strange silence for a moment, like the world had slowed down, as if the reporters hadn't quite realized what was about to happen.
Then, without a single word, Atlas raised both of his hands. He stood tall, his presence unwavering as he signed something—slow, deliberate movements of his fingers cutting through the air with a quiet force.
The reporters, who had been chattering moments before, fell completely silent. The sound of the cameras clicking and reporters yelling suddenly ceased as if they had all been struck dumb.
Anya, watching with wide eyes, could barely make out what he was saying from the distance, but she could see the confidence in his gestures, the controlled intensity of his movements.
It was like he was telling them something that demanded their full attention, and they were all too captivated to look away.
After a few tense moments, one of the reporters pulled out a notebook.
Then another. And then the rest. They started scribbling furiously, jotting down notes faster than Anya had ever seen reporters work—like they were trying to capture every word, every movement, as if they knew they were witnessing something important.
Anya turned to Kaia, still in shock. Her voice was barely a whisper, her eyes glued to the scene outside. "Okay... what is he doing?"
Kaia raised an impressed eyebrow, her arms crossed over her chest. "Okay, he's really good at this."
Anya's mouth hung open slightly as she kept her eyes fixed on the window, barely able to process what had just happened. How had Atlas just managed to silence them all with just a few signs?
She turned to Kaia, unsure if what she was seeing was even real. "He's... shutting them up with sign language?"
Kaia shrugged, her grin widening. "That, or he's about to give them a lesson in why not to mess with his girlfriend."
Anya couldn't suppress a small laugh, the absurdity of it all finally breaking through her shock. "I can't believe this."
Finally, Atlas turned around and walked back into the café, his steps confident, yet careful.
As he crossed the threshold, his usual stoic expression was back in place, but his eyes betrayed a faint hint of satisfaction.
He glanced at Anya, offering her a small nod of assurance as he closed the door behind him, cutting off any lingering signs of the chaos outside.
Anya, still standing near the window, watched him warily, her nerves still buzzing from the encounter with the reporters.
Her eyes darted toward the door, then back at Atlas, not quite believing what had just happened.
"They're... gone?" she asked, her voice tentative, her mind struggling to comprehend how quickly everything had shifted.
She half-expected the reporters to appear out of nowhere, like some kind of press phantom, lingering around just waiting for the next opportunity to pounce.
Atlas nodded again, slow and deliberate. His eyes met hers as he signed, his movements calm and practiced, though his face showed the faintest trace of a smile. He signed with precision, each gesture smooth and unhurried, the words clear:
Anya blinked at him, still processing the unexpected turn of events.
Her mouth opened, but no words came out at first.
It took a moment for her to find her voice again, her disbelief still lingering.
"What did you say to them?" she asked, her tone a mix of confusion and curiosity, as she tried to imagine what kind of magic trick or secret weapon Atlas had employed to make the reporters vanish so easily.
She didn't know whether to be impressed or worried about what she might hear.
Atlas's serious expression softened just a fraction, the smallest shift in his manner. A glimmer of amusement flashed in his eyes as he signed again, the words flowing fluidly from his hands, each movement elegant and confident:
At that, Kaia, who had been standing nearby with her arms crossed and a knowing smirk, burst into laughter.
Anya's jaw dropped, her eyes wide as she processed the absurdity of what she'd just heard.
Then, without warning, she couldn't help herself—laughter erupted from her, her hands clutching the counter for support as she shook with giggles.
It was all so ridiculous, so out of left field, that she couldn't even process it.
The thought of Atlas, the stoic and serious Atlas, issuing such a bizarre threat was too much to handle.
"You what?" Anya managed to choke out between fits of laughter, her voice shaky with disbelief. She wiped a tear from her eye, still giggling uncontrollably. "You... threatened them with flamingos?"
Atlas simply gave a small, teasing smile, one corner of his lips quirking up ever so slightly. He was clearly enjoying the reaction he'd gotten. Without missing a beat, he raised his hand once again and signed, his movements fluid and easy: