Atlas Drawing Novels & Stories

Atlas felt the warmth she was sharing with him, he smiled softly before wrapping his arms around her shoulder, bringing her closer, closing the distance between them. "The girl you of those paintings and sketches is me. You drew and painted all." Catherine whispered to him. Then Catherine pulled away and took out an envelope from her bag. Then she took out a sketch from the envelope and show it to Atlas. It's the sketch Daniel gave her that day. It was Catherine's sketch. "Who gave it to you?" Atlas winded his eyes when he got confused. Before Catherine could reply, he whined. "Ah. Daniel. You little cute punk."

Atlas demanded, his tone was tense and frustrated. He confirmed what I already knew, Brady had been sneaking through the borders. It took every ounce of strength not to react to this fact as ice-cold terror inched through my veins. If he could manage to wait just behind the house for hours, and then come back and casually make a chalk drawing out in the open like that… What else could he do? “Shit!” Atlas murmured, and I felt his lips press against my forehead. “I’m so sorry, Little Mate, I didn’t realize you were awake.”

Atlas asks, looking past me, "Is Dylan home? I want to say hello." I smile, "He's out on a date, but I'll pass along the message." Atlas takes my hand and leads me down to the limo. Brett is waiting by the back door, opening it for me when we step onto the curb. Once we're both settled into the back, Atlas links his fingers with mine, his large hand engulfing me. I smile at him and we both sit in silence.

Atlas explained with a sparkle in his blue eyes, his gaze planted firmly on my chest and thighs. “Pay attention to the road!” I demanded with a blush at his compliment. He chuckled again and then pulled over into an alley. It was empty with only a small neon sign lighting it and Atlas parked the car, unbuckling my seatbelt before continuing to feel along my thighs, dipping below the hemline.

Atlas uttered, "Alright! I have answered your queries, now, don't wake me up again." "Wait… Atlas… Hey… " "Atlas…Atlas…Hey… oh, COME ON! " ~Tch Creed clicked his tongue as he realized Atlas was not interested to continue this conversation any further. He still had several questions to ask but Atlas only loved to dance on his own rhythm. Creed was a bit frustrated by his reclusive and shut-in behavior. "Damnit!" Creed cursed under his breath, "What a useless… piece of… mind-palace… freeloader… argh!"

Woven into the ring was the shape of a dragon; a creature that reminded me of Ransom's first shift, but not quite; and an owl. The next blazing ring sat outside the mate ring. Stretching from under my breast to the top of my hipbone. All of my family's animals were depicted. Which now included a deer. Even Lukas was shown. A big O with a line running through it. At the section closest to my hip bone was another animal. I couldn't quite tell what it was, but it had beautiful wings. Atlas crawled around on the floor behind me. With his electronic pad, he raised it, aimed it, and I heard the sound of a camera shutter closing. He took multiple pictures from a variety of angles.

I said pointing at the scattered papers on the desk. Atlas glared at me. “Stay out of this.” “Just answer the question,” Jace said, voice calm as poison. “Are you afraid of ideas that aren’t physical?” Atlas opened his mouth, but Alex spoke first: “Look, let’s just start with a table. Idea, source, references.” She put paper and pens in the center. A gesture of peace. Atlas snorted but sat back. “Fine.” We spent fifteen minutes making a chart. Silence stretched. Tension kept rising.

Atlas wasn’t just a good Dad, he might be trying and failing to be a good husband. But he was trying and sometimes, it was what counted. “Earth to Julia!” Atlas joked and showed me some drawings. “Where are these from?” I frowned, staring at them. They were my drawings from the orphanage. “How do you have these?” “What do you mean? I should be asking you that.” “Huh?” I furrowed my eyebrow. “Atlas, those are my drawings.” Something flickered in Atlas’ and his grip on it tightened. “Don’t… don’t joke around, Julia,”

I shamelessly asked, I could no longer contain my anxiousness. "Here," she answered, pulling out a leather-bound journal from a cute little bag. "These are his sketches. Look, there's one of you." I took the journal from her hands, my fingers trembling slightly. As I flipped through the pages, I felt a lump form in my throat. There, on the page in front of me, was a drawing of myself. It was me, but not as I had ever seen myself before. The lines were soft and fluid, the shading expertly done. I couldn't believe it was possible that Atlas had done this.

"What do you mean by that?" Atlas asked with a worried look on his face. "It's nothing serious, I just need a blood sample, that is all, but I need it from your heart." the dragon said as he went to the altar and waited for Atlas to respond. Atlas looked at the dragon questioningly. "From my heart?" Atlas managed to finally ask. The dragon looked at him and nodded his head as he motioned Atlas up to the altar. Atlas followed and when he came up beside the dragon, he drew up a claw and stabbed Atlas in the heart and with a quick breath of a tiny stream of fire burned the hole, slit his own wrist and gave it to Atlas to drink, with he reluctantly did. As he drank the blood, Atlas' wound became