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TIGHTENED JAW, BLUE JEANS, BEATING HEART, AND SHIVERING HANDS. That's all that could describe Atlas Archer at the present point in time. Ella Fitzgerald reminded him to dream a little dream of her through his Pop's vinyl record player. Something soulful was being cooked, he could tell by the smell winding its way through the house.
Joe who stood by his side visibly relaxed, as his hold on Atlas' hand slackened. Joe had told Atlas to calm down before Atlas raised his key to unlock the burgundy, wooden door.
Atlas snapped back that he was calm, before Joe raised an eyebrow and Atlas profusely apologized. His mother and father both knew Joe was coming home with him. But that's not what Atlas' nerves had been riled up about...
He had always known.
His parents didn't want him. They gave him away as soon as his bright brown eyes gave their first few blinks. But what he hadn't realized his parent's lives had already began, and their lives would continue.
His name, Atlas. In Greek mythology it's meant to be the word map. He always thought when he was little that his parents named his this because they were going to map their way home to him.
But this wasn't some stupid fucking cliché where the pearl necked woman, and her bedazzled smiling husband promised to find their way back to their beautiful baby boy.
But here they were.
Standing in Ruth Mavis' kitchen, looking too uncomfortable and too rich to appreciate the polaroids of he, Bea, and Liam on the fridge. Or the picture of him holding up his first fish, or the one of his first time on a bike, or maybe even the one of he and Joe that he had sent to his mother, when she had teased about him.
Because this woman, this woman with hair the same color as he, and a skittish smile that matched Atlas' same sheepish one was not his mother.
Just like the stone faced man who stood next to her was not his father.
"Atlas, honey, we—" The woman began, and Atlas crosses his arms, waiting, for her to finish.
Joe said nothing. He hadn't much practice with biological parents of potential boyfriends.
Atlas scowled at the woman's use of a nickname. "You two, made a fucking movie about a couple who gave up their kid, and then spent years trying to find her again. You knew where I was. Y-You..."
