"I did it." Venus flopped into the reclining chair. She slung an arm and a leg over the side and splayed awkwardly. She wiggled her fingers and leaned her head back. "You happy now?"
Atlas snorted as he glanced at his sister. Her rosy cheeks popped against her white fur coat. Her black hair was pin straight from the cold snow melting in the warm living room.
"Yes. What did you tell her? What we practiced?" He fidgetted with his fingers as his breath clung to his throat.
Venus rolled her eyes. She ran a hand through her hair and pulled the remaining water from it. It splattered to the hardwood floor. Atlas glared at her as the puddle grew next to the chair.
"Yes. I told her that I would take her to the grave you made for her dad."
Atlas nodded, satisfied with his sister's performance.
"Was she upset?" He raised his gaze to his sister's face.
She shook her head, her hair dancing in a little wave as she moved.
"No. She was actually relieved that you did something. I believe that she still loves you. It's just a matter of her forgiving you."
Atlas' heart melted into a warm puddle at his sister's words. He bit down on his lower lip to keep himself from giving away the excitement and happiness that churned around his lips and cheeks. Venus looked over her brother, examined his subtle signs, and laughed.
"You need to do better than blush to get Serena to forgive you."
Atlas glared once more, annoyed at Venus' candor.
"I know that." He ran his fingers through his thick curls. "I love her, and that hasn't changed since the day I met her. But how do I convince someone I've wronged so badly of my affection?"
Venus leaned her head back against the headrest and stared up at the popcorn ceiling. Her eyes followed the little valleys as her mind ran, searching for an answer.
"I'm not sure, Atlas." She paused, her fingers skimming the surface of the answer but coming up empty. "Maybe you continue to love her and do things for her even if she can't see them. Never break her trust again. Do everything that you can to prove to her that her faith in you will never be misplaced again."
Atlas sighed, unsatisfied with her answer.
"That doesn't help me any. I'm already doing that."
"Then continue to. But do better."
Atlas slapped his thighs and rose from the couch. He exited the room and wandered down the hall to his office. The comforting smell of the cedar and vanilla filled his senses as he entered the doorway. It was an absolute mess. Books, papers, pens, magazines, and an assortment of blankets and clothing were scattered all across the floor. It made it impossible to walk to the desk without stepping on some object.
He kicked aside a stack of books and blankets and walked toward the desk. He slumped into his chair and relaxed. As kicked his feet up on the just as cluttered desk, a stack of books tumbled to the floor with a loud crash. He jumped up, the room started to swirl from the sudden movement. As his vision focused, he could make out a crumpled white flower petal sticking out from the pages of one of the fallen books.
He skirted around the desk and knelt on a pile of papers and shirts. He picked up the book and flipped to the page with the petal sticking out. The yellowed pages revealed a white zinnia. Its petals were pressed within the old pages of a novel months ago. The stem turned flat and crisp beneath the weight.
Atlas plucked the dried flower out of the book and twirled it between his fingers.
It still smelled fresh-as fresh as when he had cut it and given it to Serena.
Serena.
His heart ached as he thought of his mate. It was his fault for being in this situation, but regardless, his whole being yearned for her. To kiss her. To hold her. To smell her intoxicating scent next to him. He inhaled deeply, hoping to hold off the wave of emotion and craving as he thought of her. But when he closed his eyes, her bright smile in the sunroom over dinner was all that he could see. He opened them and then shut them tight again. Her moonlit face smelling the flowers in his mother's old flower garden greeted him. He flipped them open again and stormed out of the office, dropping the old book on a pile of blankets as he exited.
He rushed into the living room and shoved the flower into Venus' face.
Slowly, she opened her eyes and shook the sleepiness from her head. When her eyes registered the flower centimeters from her nose and her brother glaring down at her, she jerked her head back, startled, and pushed him away with her hand.
"What the hell." She muttered groggily. "What is that?"
"It's a flower."
"Well, no shit." She raked her slightly damp hair out of her face and gave him a confused look before turning back to the flower. "What are you doing with a dead flower?"
Atlas retracted the flower and rolled his eyes.
"It's not dead. Well, it is. But I pressed it to keep it longer. It's the flower I gave Serena." He stuck his hand out again, gesturing for Venus to take it. "Give it to her."
Cautiously, she took it from his hands and examined it. She gave him confused glances as she looked over the decaying petals.
She sighed and held it out for him.
"You'd be better off throwing it away. I doubt she'll remember it."
Atlas pushed her hand away.
"She will remember." He said determined to see his token of lasting affection returned to the rightful owner.
Venus raised an eyebrow. She shrugged and pulled herself from the chair.
"Fine. I'll give it to her tomorrow. When I go tell her more about the grave you made for her dad."
She moved toward the door but was pulled back. She fell into Atlas' arms. He bent his head down and rest it on her hair. He loosely wrapped his arms around his sister, unsure of how to hold her. She awkwardly reached around him and patted his back.
"Thank you, Venus. It means a lot to me you're doing this."
She relaxed, softened by his sudden tenderness.
"She's brought you back. How can I give up on something that brings you and her both happiness."