Atlas's POV
The wind howled against my ears, and the cold finally caught up with me. I wrapped the coat around myself as I slowly walked towards a cherry blossom tree in the backyard of my home. Its branches were dry and bare, and its trunk was carved with the following words, its fonts so wonky and rough — "SAFE SPOT".
"Atlas!", a familiar voice cut through the air.
I whipped my head around to see a boy around my age hobbling towards me. He was wearing a grey hoodie, one he usually wears on days such as this.
I instantly lit up at the sight of him. "Luther! There you are! Where were you?", I grinned.
He looked at me with those warm amber eyes — eyes that somehow complemented his dark hair and pale skin.
He slowed down in front of me, his frame slightly taller than my figure. "Oh, I was eating dinner, as usual," he blurted out flatly as he quickly moved his hand to his cheek, hiding a bruise, in which he failed since I've already seen it when he was still a few feet away from me.
He was always like this. Always lying. He thinks that I never notice, but I'm not that oblivious.
Why is he like this? Why won't he open up to me? Am I not his friend?
Yet, I smiled. I made myself look like I believed him, even though I did not. But it was the only way. The only way to keep him reassured and feel safe — comfortable.
But not comforted.
He sat down with me beneath the tree, his breath coming out in small clouds of white. For a moment, neither of us spoke. Only the sounds of the wind filled the silence between us — sharp, restless, and lonely.
Then, he said quietly, "Atlas. . . there's something I have to tell you."
I tilted my head, a small laugh slipping out. "You sound serious. What did you do this time?"
But he didn't laugh back. His hands were trembling, clutching the edge of his sleeves like they were the only thing keeping him from falling apart.
"My mom and I. . . we're leaving."
The words froze in the air — sharp, unkind, and unreal.
"Leaving?", I repeated, my smile faltering. "For how long?"
He didn't answer right away. Instead, he looked up at the cherry blossom tree, at the rough letters we carved when we first met a few years ago. "For good", he whispered.
The cold suddenly bit harder. I felt it crawl under my coat, seep into my chest, settle where my heartbeat used to be steady. My eyes were burning, threatening to water up with tears.
"W-Why? Why do you have to go? You said we'd make snowmen together. You promised!"
I stopped myself when I saw his expression. The same look he had when he came home with bruises. The same look that pleaded me not to ask.
Luther stood up first, hands clenched into his coat pockets. I stood up as well, and instinctively reached out for him — but I restrained myself.
That would make me look desperate.
He looked calm for a child of seven — but his eyes betrayed him. They were wide, scared, and full of something too heavy for a child to carry.
Finally, tears fell and streaked down my face, dripping onto my sweater from my chin.
"I'm sorry, Atlas", he whispered, stepping closer. His voice shook slightly. "Mom says we have to leave right now. But I'll come back. I promise."
I sniffled, shaking my head. "You're lying."
"I'm not."
Luther crouched down so our eyes met. "You always wait under this tree, right? Then someday, when the snow looks just like this, I'll find you here again."
A gust of wind passed, scattering flakes between us. I reached and clutched Luther's sleeve. "You promise?"
Luther smiled for the first time that morning. But it was somehow...weak. "I promise."
Then, he reached into his coat pockets and pulled out a small trinket — a snow globe, chipped at the edge but still glittering when shaken. Inside it was a small snowman figurine and a little red sleigh, with a little blonde boy sitting in it. He pressed it into my mittened hands.
"So, you won't forget me", he said softly. "Keep it safe until I come back."
I laughed softly as I hugged the object close to my chest, even though I could barely breathe. "How could I forget someone who still owes me a chocolate bar?"
That made him smile for real this time. A small, fleeting thing — warm enough to melt the moment just for a second.
And then, before I could even say anything else, he leaned in and wrapped his arms around me.
It was awkward — he was taller, and my coat was too puffy. But I didn't care. I held him back anyway, as tightly as I could, afraid that if I let go, he'd disappear with the wind.
"Wait for me, Atlas", he whispered against my shoulder.
"I will," I said. "May we find each other again under the winter tree."
He pulled away. His eyes shimmered in the fading light as the first light of the sun finally cracked through dawn.
Then, he turned and walked away, leaving me in the cold.
*~*~*
SIXTEEN YEARS LATER. . .
The sound of an alarm broke the serenity of my slumber.
I groaned, fumbling for my phone beneath the blanket.
7:38 a.m.
The screen blinked at me like it was judging my entire existence.
"Crap, crap, crap-!"
I shot out of bed, nearly tripping on the pile of clothes I swore I'd fold last night. My uniform — a crisp white shirt and black apron — hung half-wrinkled on the back of my chair. I didn't even bother fixing my hair properly; I just ran my fingers through my soft, messy red curls and hoped I looked decently human.
By the time I got outside, the air was still biting cold — not as harsh as before, but cold enough to make my nose turn pink. The city had changed so much since I was a kid. The small houses, the empty lots — all gone, replaced by narrow cafés and bright signs that stayed lit even in daylight.
But some things never changed.
I slowed down as I reached the edge of the street — and there it was.
The cherry blossom tree.
It stood quietly in the backyard of our old home, its branches now bare again for winter. The carving was still there too, though the letters had worn smooth over time — SAFE SPOT.
My chest tightened. For a moment, the noise of the city faded, and all I could hear was the echo of a boy's voice.
"Wait for me, Atlas."
I smiled faintly, shaking my head.
Then, with a deep breath, I turned and walked away.
*~*~*
The bell above the café door chimed softly. I looked up from the counter, expecting another student or a hurried office worker.
Instead, in walked a tall guy with blonde hair that caught the afternoon light — perfectly messy in that I-woke-up-like-this-but-it's-fashion way. His blue eyes roamed the café before they landed on me.
And then, that grin. That stupid, confident grin I hadn't seen in years.
"Atlas Bennett", he drawled, striding toward the counter. "Still as cute as ever. Thought you'd be halfway across the world by now."
"Fabian Zekiel Dean", I said, narrowing my eyes, though I couldn't help the small smile tugging at my lips. "Still as dramatic as ever. Thought you'd be too busy charming professors."
He laughed — the same bright, effortless laugh that used to fill our middle school hallways. "Please, I only charm the ones who deserve it."
"Right", I said, reaching for the register. "So what'll it be?"
He tilted his head, pretending to study the menu even though I knew he never really cared what he ordered. "Hmm... how about an Iced Americano? Keep it classic."
I blinked. "No whipped cream? No caramel drizzle? Who are you, and what have you done with the real Fabian?"
He smirked. "Trying to look more sophisticated. Women love it."
"Women", I repeated, deadpan.
"Hey, you never know." He winked. "But don't worry, you're still my favorite."
"Fabian."
"Yes, my favorite?"
"Do you want your Americano or not?"
He grinned wider. "You're no fun."
I tried to suppress my laugh as I moved to prepare his drink. Behind me, I could hear him drumming his fingers against the counter, probably humming to himself.
When I handed him his drink, he took it and leaned against the counter, watching me. "So, you're really doing it, huh? College and part-time job?"
"Yeah", I said, shrugging. "Gotta make a living somehow."
He was right — and yet, also wrong. I don't work part-time.
I work for a whole, tiring day. For every day of the week. No day-offs.
Honestly, I don't even remember when was the last time I attended university.
He studied me for a moment, his teasing expression softening just a little. "You've grown up, Atlas. It suits you."
I froze for a second — that was rare, coming from Fabian. He, of course, and quickly covered it with another grin.
"Don't look so touched. I still plan to annoy you every time I drop by."
"Great", I said, rolling my eyes. "Just what I needed."
He took a slow sip of his drink. "Hey, admit it — you missed me."
I smiled faintly. "Maybe a little."
His grin widened. "That's all I needed to hear."