Friday morning came with sounds.
A soft thud. A meow. Sunny's bark—sharp, playful.
Noah opened his eyes. Luna and Sunny were wrestling on the floor beside the bed. Sunny had Luna's tail in her mouth. Luna batted at her face with soft paws.
He propped himself up on one elbow and watched them. A smile tugged at his mouth.
Email. Atlas. Meeting today.
His thumb hovered over the screen. Together.
Something in his chest shifted.
He looked away, at Sunny and Luna still playing, and shook his head. "Get up."
Sunny barked and looked at him, tail wagging.
He pushed off the bed and scooped them both up—Luna in one arm, Sunny in the other. Their warmth pressed against his chest as he carried them downstairs.
He kissed Luna's head. "Two days. You've been with us two days."
Luna purred.
His jacket hung by the door. He grabbed it, put Sunny down, and clipped on her leash. Luna followed them, meowing and running after.
"We'll be back," Noah said, and closed the door on Luna's face. She meowed louder.
---
The park was quiet and cold. Sunny ran ahead, her leash pulling taut while Noah followed.
His mind was elsewhere. The company. The research he'd done last night. Market position. Growth trajectory. Risk factors.
Sunny sniffed a tree, then another, then circled back to him.
At home, Luna was waiting by the door, meowing loud and insistent. Noah set Sunny down and they ran to their bowls, eating side by side.
He went upstairs. The shower was too hot but he stayed under it and let the water beat against his shoulders.
Got out. Dressed. Navy slacks. White shirt. No tie yet.
He stood at the mirror and ran a hand through his hair, smiled at himself.
Everything changed so fast.
Downstairs, he cracked eggs into a pan. Toast popped. Coffee brewed—the smell rich and dark. Luna and Sunny circled his feet, weaving between his legs.
Lydia stumbled in with hair everywhere and eyes barely open. "Morning."
"Morning. Mirror first."
She grinned and sat at the table. "Love you too."
"What's your plan today?"
"Meeting Sienna after school."
"Why?" He looked at her.
"New camera. Photography stuff."
"Right."
He finished his coffee and grabbed his bag. Luna and Sunny were at the door, waiting and sitting.
He crouched, scratched behind their ears, and kissed their heads. "Be good."
Then left.
---
The office was empty when he arrived. Early. Quiet.
He sat at his desk, opened his laptop, and started working.
An hour later, Clara and Elias walked in. "Morning."
"Morning."
Elias made coffee and glanced at Noah while the machine hissed. "Big day?"
"Why?"
"You're here early." He poured. "And you look... sharp."
Clara hugged Noah from behind and rested her chin on his shoulder. "You look great. As always. Ignore him."
Noah's brow furrowed. "I don't know what you're implying."
Clara smiled and pulled back. "Coffee?"
"Thanks."
They worked. Emails. Reports. Calls. The morning disappeared into routine.
His phone buzzed.
Atlas.
I can pick you up at 1. For the meeting.
Noah's mouth curved. He started typing: I can drive myself.
Stopped. Deleted it.
Typed: That works.
He stared at the screen, at the message, at Atlas's name.
Clara touched his arm. "Something funny?"
He looked up fast. "Just—yeah. Something stupid."
Clara's eyes glinted. "Right."
Elias stood and stretched. "Lunch?"
Clara grabbed her coat. "Let's go."
Noah shook his head. "I have the meeting. Leaving soon."
"Right." Clara's smile widened. "The meeting. Have fun."
"See you this weekend," Elias said.
They left. The office went quiet.
Noah made another coffee and stood by the window, watching people below like tiny figures moving in patterns.
His phone buzzed.
I'm here.
He grabbed his bag and left.
In the elevator, he took a breath and let it out slow. "Professional. Just be professional."
The doors opened.
Outside, a black car waited at the curb. Sleek. Not the one from before.
He changed cars.
Noah walked over, opened the door, and got in.
Atlas was behind the wheel. He turned and smiled. "Hey."
"Hey."
---
They pulled into traffic. The city was loud with horns, sirens, construction somewhere.
"So," Atlas said, his voice even and calm. "What do you think about the company? From the research."
"Strong fundamentals. Good leadership team. But their market share's been stagnant for two years."
Atlas nodded, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the console between them. "They're risk-averse. Playing it safe."
"Which works until it doesn't."
"Exactly."
They stopped at a red light. Atlas glanced at him. Their eyes met.
Held.
Noah looked away first, out the window.
The light turned green.
"I read your report last night," Atlas said. "The section on vendor contracts. That was good."
"Thanks."
"You've got an eye for things."
Noah's face warmed. He kept his eyes on the buildings sliding past. "It's the job."
" Not everyone does it like you. "
Silence. Not uncomfortable. Just—there.
Atlas shifted gears. His hand dropped to the console, stopping inches from Noah's knee, then pulled back and returned to the wheel.
Noah's breath caught for a second. His leg tensed.
A few blocks later, Atlas spoke again. "They're going to push for a quick decision. Today, probably."
"I know."
"We should hold off. At least a week. Get more data."
"Agreed."
Atlas glanced at him again. "You're calm about this."
"Should I not be?"
"No. It's—" Atlas paused. "It's good. You're good at this."
Noah looked at him, at his profile, the line of his jaw, the way his hands rested on the wheel—easy, confident. His left wrist loose against the window, his thumb drawing a barely visible circle on the leather.
That movement.
Noah knew it. Atlas always did that when he was thinking about something.
" You're talking more these days," Noah said quietly, not sure why he said it.
Atlas's mouth curved at the corner. "Have I?"
"Yeah."
"Maybe I'm trying something new."
Their eyes met again. Longer this time.
Atlas's fingers moved on the wheel once, twice. That nervous movement. Familiar.
He looked away, back to the road, but his throat moved with a swallow Noah could hear. "We're almost there."
Noah nodded and didn't say anything.
But something in his chest felt tight. The car felt smaller, the air heavy.
---
At the company, executives met them in the lobby. Suits. Handshakes. Smiles that didn't reach their eyes.
They rode the elevator up, walked down a hallway, and entered a conference room.
Large table. Windows overlooking the city. Too much light.
Noah and Atlas sat side by side. Natural. Like they'd planned it.
The presentations started. Market analysis. Growth projections. Client retention.
Noah listened and took notes, his pen moving across paper steady and controlled.
Under the table, his foot shifted an inch, maybe two, and hit something.
Atlas's shoe.
Both froze.
Noah pulled back fast, automatic.
But that spot on his ankle—even through the sock—was still burning. The heat of contact stayed there.
The presenter kept talking. "...twelve percent growth in Q3..."
Noah didn't lift his head. His eyes stayed on the paper but his pen had stopped, motionless on the page.
He felt Atlas beside him. In every cell.
His calf muscles were tense, aware of exactly where Atlas's legs were, the space between them.
A few inches. Only a few inches between them.
Atlas asked a question. "Your client retention is below industry average. Why is that?" His voice sharp and clear, but in the middle of the sentence—very slight, just for a moment—the words caught.
The executive answered. Atlas leaned forward, focused.
Noah glanced sideways at Atlas's hand on the table holding his pen, his fingers trembling slightly, at the way his jaw set when he was thinking.
Then looked away, back to his notes.
The meeting continued for an hour, then another.
Their feet didn't touch again. But Noah was aware of it. The almost. The possibility. His body still felt like it was waiting.
When it ended, they stood, shook hands, and said the right things.
Walked out side by side.
In the elevator, neither spoke. Just stood there watching the numbers descend.
---
In the parking garage, Atlas unlocked the car. They got in and pulled out into late afternoon traffic.
"So," Atlas said. "What did you think?"
Noah talked. The things that stood out. Growth potential. Risk areas. Leadership concerns.
His words were clean and professional.
Atlas listened, his eyes on the road, then back, and nodded.
When Noah finished, Atlas was quiet for a moment. Then started talking about the company, about market trends, about competitive positioning. Detailed. Analytical. His hands gestured in precise movements.
More than Noah had heard him say in weeks. Maybe months.
Noah found himself watching Atlas's mouth, the way the words came out, the way it moved when he spoke.
When did this change? When did he start explaining things like this?
Atlas turned and caught him.
"What?" Atlas asked, his voice soft.
"Nothing. Just—you're talking a lot."
Atlas smiled, but didn't. Almost shy. "Is that bad?"
"No. It's good."
They held each other's gaze. The car slowed at a light.
"Where am I taking you?" Atlas asked.
"Lydia's with Sienna. I'll meet them."
"Where?"
Noah gave him the address.
But his eyes stayed on Atlas's hand, on the fingers on the wheel, that habit he'd never forgotten.
---
When they pulled up, Sienna was outside with Lydia.
Sienna saw Atlas through the windshield. Her eyes went wide.
Noah got out. Atlas followed.
Sienna walked over fast and threw her arms around Atlas. "Atlas! Oh my god!"
Then turned and hugged Noah. "Hey."
Lydia ran over. "Atlas!" She grabbed him tight. "I missed you."
Atlas's arms came around her gently. "Missed you too, kid."
"You can't just leave," Lydia said. "We should get dinner. I have so much to tell you."
Noah looked at her, his jaw tight.
She ignored him.
Atlas's mouth curved at the corner. His eyes flicked to Noah, then back to Lydia. "Sure. That sounds good."
"I'll text you," Lydia said.
Atlas nodded and got in the car. Stopped. Looked at Noah.
There was no coldness. Not anymore.
Something else was there instead—fragile, new. Maybe hope. Maybe regret.
"See you," Atlas said.
Noah's hand lifted instinctively, stopped halfway, then dropped. "Yeah. See you."
Atlas smiled like he'd seen it. That half-movement.
Then drove away.
Noah stood there on the sidewalk, his chest tight and heavy.
Sienna turned to them. "So. Shopping?"
Lydia launched into it. Cameras. Lenses. Memory cards.
They walked. Lydia talked. Her phone rang and she stepped away.
Sienna looked at Noah. Really looked. "You seem good. Really good."
"Thanks. You too."
"How are things?"
"Good."
Sienna studied him. "How are you and Atlas? Really."
Noah's jaw tightened. "We're working together. That's it."
"Right." Pause. "You know... every relationship has problems."
"We're not in a relationship."
Sienna's eyes softened. "If the feelings are gone, they're gone. You can't force it."
Noah didn't answer. Just looked at her.
"But," she continued, "if they're not... you should figure that out."
Lydia came back and started talking about Sunday, an event, a photography thing.
"You should come," Sienna said. "Alice will be there."
"Maybe. If I'm free."
They talked about where, when, what to bring.
Then split up.
---
At home, Noah and Lydia cooked.
Ate. Cleaned up.
Noah sat on the floor. Luna climbed onto his chest. Sunny curled up beside him.
He closed his eyes.
Lydia took a video and posted it.
His phone buzzed. Group chat. His friends. Laughing emojis. Comments.
dude you're a cat dad now?
what's next, a fish?
Noah looked at Lydia, half-asleep. "Post your own pictures."
She grinned. "Yours get more engagement."
"I'm going to bed."
He stood. Luna and Sunny followed.
He picked them both up, carried them upstairs, and set them on the bed.
They curled up together. Grey and gold.
Noah lay down and watched them.
Luna's fur was soft and silver in the low light. Sunny's was wheat-colored and warm.
He smiled.
Then the day came back. The meeting. The car ride.
Atlas. Talking. Explaining. Opening up.
That movement with his thumb on the wheel. The way his voice had caught. The tremor in his fingers.
He's changing.
Then Sienna's words. If the feelings are gone, they're gone.
Were they gone?
Noah's chest felt tight.
Then Atlas's face. That smile. The way he'd looked at Noah when he left. That fragile thing in his eyes.
The half-movement of Noah's hand. Atlas seeing it.
Heat spread across Noah's face. He pressed his palm to his cheek. It was warm.
What am I doing?
He closed his eyes and tried to push it away.
But it stayed. Atlas's face. His voice. The way his hand had moved near Noah's knee. That spot on his ankle that still felt warm.
Stop.
Sunny shifted and pressed against his side.
Luna purred.
Noah took a breath and let it out slow.
Tomorrow. He'd think about it tomorrow.
Sleep came eventually.
Restless.