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Chapter 2 - CHAPTER 2

Zhan has stopped counting the days since he was dragged into Atlas's place. Somewhere between the pain was fading, however, the time inside the apartment feel like didn't move normally. The sun passed through the same glass walls, the food came at the same quiet hours, and Atlas always watching, the only person that always one step ahead. That thing started to feel less like a captor but feel more like gravity. He hated that, how he can became comfortable instead of feeling scared. He hated that his body no longer recoiled from Atlas's presence and hated that the scent of Atlas make it started to feel like home.

"I'm fucking messed here." He murmured to himself. Later, Zhan lay half-asleep on the couch, before...

A touch.

Not so rough and not in controlling. Just Atlas's fingers brushing through Zhan's hair as he asleep. However, Zhan startled and jerking upright with his eyes widen open to processed the whole situation. Atlas didn't flinch,

"Relax." He said. Zhan swallowed,

"Don't touch me like that." Zhan scowled.

"Like what?" Atlas asked.

"Like you care." Zhan replied before he lay back on the couch. Didn't care of Atlas's presence. That, make Atlas paused for a long enough until Zhan turned to look at him. Their eyes met again.

"I do care," Atlas said softly and silence for a moment before continue,

"In my way." His statements make Zhan laughed bitterly,

"Your ass way almost killed me." Then, Atlas sat on the couch where Zhan lies like a sea cow. Maybe want to have a little chit-chat with him.

"You were asking for a fight."

"I didn't ask to be humiliated." Zhan said.

"No," Atlas said,

"but you deserved it."

That make Zhan's jaw clenched.

"You think you're fixing me?"

"No," Atlas murmured,

"I'm undoing you. So you can learn what it feels like to be real." Atlas spoke. That silence again where Zhan couldn't speak because if he did, it would crack open the thing he was barely holding inside.

Later that evening, Zhan sat on the edge of the bed, his legs still sore and borrowed Atlas's shirt that clinging to the frame. The silence of the apartment crept like fog. He stared at himself in the mirror.

'Tap. Tap. Tap.'

The soft sound of footsteps behind him. He didn't need to look to know who it was, like, who else could be here beside them? Atlas brought him some snacks.

"Feeding me like fucking pet again?" Zhan muttered. Then, Atlas's voice came low and calm,

"You're not a pet nor a prisoner."

Zhan scoffed after heard a replied from Atlas,

"You sure as hell act like I am."

Atlas didn't rise to it. He stepped closer, put the snacks on the desk beside the bed and leaned closer to Zhan. Close enough for him to feel the heat and the scent of Atlas.

"I'm doing this because..." Atlas said,

"because I didn't want you to forget who had you first."

"Had me?" Zhan's eyes narrowed. Atlas's hand brushed aside his hair while his fingertips tracing the bruised that almost fading on his face.

"You came at me like you were the one in control," Atlas said,

"but now look."

Zhan looked, looked at his own reflection on the mirror with Atlas behind him, that look calm and composed. This feel more like owned than a threat. Something inside him twisted.

Later that night, Zhan entered Atlas's room.

'Creak'

Slowly approaching him that sleeping even he's a light sleeper. Then, Zhan straddled him in the bed with both his wrists pinned. Atlas didn't startled nor surprised with that bold action. He looked up at him like he was made of fire. Zhan breathed hard,

"I fucking hate you," Zhan whispered.

"You'll hate me more after this." Atlas smiled and flipped their positions. And for Zhan, he so stupid, he can't do anything right now and let that happened. Let him take, let him mark and let him own. Every inch of resistance, fell away under Atlas's mouth, his hands, and his voice. This, make Zhan feel change of heart.

In the next morning, Zhan stood near the balcony with one hand on the cold glass. The view was absurd with skyscrapers, blue haze, and the distant blur of traffic. This is way beyond what a college student should afford. Behind him, the silence of the apartment stretched thick. He hadn't left yet from this hell. That pissed him off most of all that he started to get used staying inside the predator's house.

'Tap. Tap. Tap.'

Atlas moved behind him, quietly, like he always did. His presence filled the space without sound.

"You've been staring at the same skyline for 15 minutes," Atlas said,

"looking for a way out?" Zhan didn't turn to look at Atlas,

"No," Zhan sipped the cold water and continue,

"I just wondering, how far I'd fall if I jumped." Then, Atlas was beside him now, shoulder to shoulder,

"Dramatic. But you don't seem like the suicidal type."

"You're right." Zhan huffed.

"Good." Atlas slid his hands into his pockets, he speak,

"because...would be a waste of decent bones." After that, Zhan finally looked at him,

"You really don't say sorry, huh?" Zhan said.

"Do you?" Atlas asked him back, silence for a moment before Zhan break it,

"I still don't get it...Why the fuck you let me stay here? We're not fucking friends! You knocked my ass out and....and you don't even like people, you bastard!"

"You cursing too much." Atlas sighed and continue,

"You're right that I don't."

"Then? What the hell am I doing here?" Zhan asked. Atlas turned his gaze on Zhan fully now. There was no smirk nor cruelty. Just...cold honesty.

"I wanted to see what you'd do," he said,

"when you realized, you weren't the one in control anymore." That make Zhan's breath caught.

"So...this is some kind of test?" Zhan scoffed and continue,

"You keeping me here just to mess with my head, huh, you bastard?"

"No," Atlas said,

"I don't care enough about that. I'm just..." Atlas looked away,

"curious."

"Curious?" Zhan repeated,

"So...I'm your little experiment here?" Zhan let out a bitter laughed. Atlas just shrugged and reply,

"You kept watching me in the exam hall like you already knew me." Zhan flinched at that. He hadn't expected Atlas still remember about that.

"Well..." Zhan scratched his neck,

"You stood out." Zhan muttered.

"I always do." Atlas replied calmly. That silence again. This time it crawled between their ribs. Then, Zhan asked quietly,

"Now what? You gonna keep feeding me until I magically vanish?"

Atlas leaned forward slightly, just enough to breach the line between personal space and something more,

"I don't care if you stay or want to get out from here," he said,

"I just don't want you thinking you're above everyone." His voice low and menacing. Zhan's jaw clenched,

"You think I'm scared of you, huh, pretty face?"

"No," Atlas said,

"but you should be."

Evening later, Zhan stood in the doorway of the spare room, the one he'd been using. Atlas had left a small basket of neatly folded clothes on the bed earlier. Just clean, nothing fancy and it pissed Zhan off how easy it was to live here. This place, somehow felt safe even it shouldn't be.

"Is he serious about saving my living cost?" Zhan murmured to himself. He dropped the blanket on the bed and turned to the window. Atlas was in the other room, doing whatever top students did like reading and writing. Zhan pressed his forehead to the glass and exhaled hard. Whatever this was between them, it wasn't over, because it hadn't even started yet.

The following morning, Zhan woke before sunrise. He hadn't mean to since his body was sore, but no longer screaming. Still, his brain refused to shut off. The air inside the apartment felt too clean and too still. He wasn't used to waking in a place that smelled like cedar and silence. Then, he stretched carefully and padded barefoot toward the kitchen.

'Beep.'

The digital clock on the microwave blinked, indicates that its already 6:00 AM. He reached for the kettle.

"You drink black coffee?" Atlas's voice came from behind. Zhan flinched slightly, almost drop the kettle.

"Jesus–!"

Atlas leaned on the wall, already dressed with slate gray hoodie and sweatpants. His hair slightly damp.

"Didn't mean to startle you." he said.

Zhan scoffed,

"Do you sleep with your eyes open?"

"I sleep light." Atlas replied. Zhan poured water into the kettle without answering. Atlas walked past him, grabbed a cup, and started preparing black coffee. His movements were precise and effortless. Zhan hated how quiet he was, like the place had molded around him.

"You still haven't left. You know I leave the passkey next to the door?" Atlas said without looking up.

"Guess, I don't like limping across campus with broken ribs." Zhan said flatly.

"You're not limping anymore." Atlas spoke. Zhan paused because he was right. It just him that getting used to Atlas's place. He didn't even pull anything funny anymore. Why don't he escape from this hell? Atlas turned, his sharp and amused gaze on him,

"So, what's your excuse now, hm?"

Zhan bristled at that and reply,

"Do I need one?"

"No," Atlas replied,

"but I like when people being honest."

Zhan grabbed the mug and poured himself a black coffee, even though he hated the bitterness,

"I-I'll leave soon," he muttered,

"Don't worry. Your little experiment's almost over."

"I'm not worried and not care." Atlas said. Silence again. Zhan took a sip and immediately regretted it. That black coffee was bitter as hell. He made a face and reached for sugar. Atlas smirked but just a twitch of his lips.

"Still pretending you're tougher than you are?" Atlas said.

'Clink.'

Zhan set the mug down.

"You think I'm weak?"

"I think," Atlas said slowly,

"you're used to being in control. And now, its not anymore." Silence. Zhan didn't answer as he just stared at the dark liquid in his cup. And he broke the silence,

"Can you quit saying about control?" No respond from Atlas.

Later on evening, Zhan found himself on the leather couch, half-asleep with a textbook in his lap. Atlas sat across the room, typing something, probably another perfect assignment.

"You should go to class." Atlas said. Zhan looked up,

"So should you."

"I did." Atlas said without look at him. Zhan narrowed his eyes,

"You left while I was sleeping?" Zhan questioning him. Atlas nodded,

"Twice."

"You're kidding." Zhan scoffed and Atlas didn't respond. Zhan ran a hand through his hair,

"This is messed up."

Then, Atlas finally closed his laptop,

"You're free to go."

"Yeah?" Zhan snapped,

"Then say it. Out loud." Atlas tilted his head and asked,

"Why? You need permission?"

Later, Zhan restlessly stood,

"This place messes with your head."

"You've been here for four days." Atlas replied,

"If you're unraveling already, that says more about you than me."

Zhan glared at him,

"You always talk like you're smarter than everyone else."

"I usually am." Atlas replied casually.

Then, Zhan rubbed his temple,

"Shit...yeah, ex-McGill Uni..." Then he continue, try to win this conversation,

"but still, you're not better than me." Zhan said in bitter tone. Atlas stood now, not in threat but in just equal height,

"I never said I was."

After that, Zhan took a step closer,

"You think I'm scared of you?"

"No," Atlas said softly,

"but I think you're intrigued." That statements, once again stopped Zhan, because it was true and that pissed him off more than anything.

Thursday morning has woke Zhan. Yes, he didn't left yet even Atlas told him free to go. He told himself it was the food, the luxury place, didn't have to think about rent and the peace. But it wasn't. It was the way Atlas moved through space like he'd already calculated the outcome of every step Zhan might take, like he didn't care if Zhan stayed of left, because either way, he'd win. It was infuriating and addictive.

'Splatter.'

On evening, rain drummed against the glass windows. Zhan stood in the kitchen again while his fingers twitching around a cold mug of tea. The air was dense with thunder waiting to break.

"You ever had a real friend?" He didn't know why he said it. Atlas didn't look up from his book,

"Define real."

Zhan exhaled sharply,

"Someone who closed to you, someone who gave a damn even when you had nothing to offer back."

"Yes. Once." Atlas said. Zhan blinked,

"What happened?"

Atlas closed the book slowly, still not looking at him,

"I moved."

"That's it?" Zhan asked.

"No," Atlas said,

"but that's where the story ends."

Zhan stared at him.

"You ever miss them?"

Atlas looked up. His eyes were cold and unreadable,

"I don't miss what doesn't come back."

Zhan swallowed. Silence stretched between them, full of things neither had the words for. Then, softly,

"You're really good at keeping people out." Zhan said.

Atlas stood, crossed the room, and stopped in front of him,

"You're still here," he said. Zhan's pulse flicked and Atlas continue with his voice lowered,

"So either I'm bad at it...or you're not trying very hard."

On the night, Zhan lay awake in the dark guest room, staring at the ceiling. Rain still tapping outside. His body ached less, but his mind wouldn't shut up. He got up and walked through the silent apartment. He stopped in front of Atlas's bedroom door.

'Creak.'

Zhan stepped in without knocking and saw Atlas was sitting at the edge of his bed with one hand resting on his thigh. He didn't look surprised to see him. Zhan leaned on the doorframe,

"You sleep at all?"

Atlas's eyes lifted,

"Occasionally."

Zhan looked away,

"I keep thinking I'll figure you out."

Atlas stood slowly, took a step closer.

"You won't."

"Why not?" Zhan asked.

Atlas was close enough now that Zhan could feel the heat between them.

"Because," Atlas said softly,

"I don't even let myself to be known."

Zhan breath caught in his throat. Something passed between them, not gentle nor soft but like a magnetic and inevitable. Atlas reached out, not to touch but just to hover a hand near Zhan's face, just enough to make him feel it,

"You still think this is about power? Atlas whispered. Zhan didn't speak because he wasn't sure anymore.

To be continue...

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