The next weekend, Demitra decided to take a break from her intense study schedule, and when she mentioned it casually to Atlas, she found herself roped into a spontaneous Saturday afternoon adventure. Atlas wanted to show her around parts of the city she hadn't explored yet, places that, according to Atlas, were "hidden gems" only locals knew about.

Their first stop was a small park hidden behind a row of old buildings, filled with wildflowers and a few artistically painted benches. Atlas led her to a secluded corner where a tiny mural stretched across the wall-a blend of abstract shapes and soft colors, like something out of a dream.

"I found this place by accident last week," Atlas said, leaning against a tree as they both admired the mural. "It's kind of my secret spot. Feels like another world here, you know?"

Demitra nodded, looking around at the secluded, peaceful space. "It's beautiful. I can see why you like it."

They wandered through the park, talking about everything from art to music to their favorite Greek and Caribbean dishes. Atlas's love for creativity was evident in every story she told-she spoke about her favorite designers with a reverence that made Demitra want to know more, to peel back every layer and understand the mind of this girl who had somehow wormed her way into her heart.

"Tell me about your family," Atlas said at one point, her voice soft.

Demitra hesitated, the question catching her off guard. It wasn't that she didn't like talking about her family; she was close with her parents and siblings, but she wasn't used to sharing personal details with people she hadn't known for very long. Yet with Atlas, it felt... safe.

"They're loud," Demitra said with a small smile. "Big Greek family, lots of cousins, aunts, uncles. We're always in each other's business."

Atlas chuckled. "Sounds like home. My family's the same. Just substitute the Greek food with curry and plantains."

They shared a laugh, their worlds feeling less distant in that moment. Demitra was surprised by how easy it felt to be open with Atlas, to share parts of herself that she usually kept hidden.

After the park, Atlas took her to a small, dimly lit music venue where local bands played for an intimate crowd. The music was raw and unpolished, but the energy was infectious. They found a spot near the back, away from the crush of people, and as the band played a soulful, bluesy tune, Demitra found herself leaning closer to Atlas, their shoulders brushing.

Atlas glanced at her, amber eyes catching the low light, and for a moment, Demitra felt her heart flutter again. She held her gaze, her breath catching, and for a brief, terrifying second, she thought Atlas might kiss her.

But then the song ended, and the crowd erupted into applause, breaking the spell. Demitra pulled back, feeling a strange mix of relief and disappointment.

They left the venue a while later, the night air crisp against their skin as they walked through the city streets. Atlas reached out and took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"You're something else, you know that?" Atlas said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Demitra's cheeks flushed, but she didn't pull away. "You're not so bad yourself, Bertoni."

They walked in silence for a while, the city lights casting a warm glow over them, and for the first time, Demitra felt like she was exactly where she was meant to be.

The next few days passed in a blur. Demitra's focus was all over the place; whenever she tried to study, her thoughts drifted back to Atlas and their night together. She replayed their conversations, the warmth of Atlas's hand in hers, the way her heart had pounded when they'd almost kissed. She was starting to lose sleep over it, her mind unable to shake the excitement and the fear that came with these new feelings.

One night, Demitra found herself at the café after closing, sitting alone at one of the tables and staring at the last few sips of her chai latte. She hadn't planned to be there, but something had pulled her to the café, as if hoping to run into Atlas.

As if on cue, Atlas walked in, surprised to see Demitra there after hours. She smiled, her expression soft as she made her way over.

"Late night, mami?" she asked, sliding into the chair across from her.

Demitra shrugged, trying to play it cool. "Yeah, just... thinking."

Atlas nodded, studying her for a moment. "Want to talk about it?"

Demitra hesitated, the vulnerability feeling almost foreign to her. But then she took a deep breath, meeting Atlas's gaze. "I... I don't know what's happening between us. And it scares me."

Atlas's expression softened, and she reached across the table, taking Demitra's hand. "Me too. But maybe that's okay?"

Demitra swallowed, her heart hammering in her chest. "Yeah. Maybe it is."

They sat there in silence, holding hands across the table, both of them feeling the weight of the unspoken words between them. The night stretched on, and in that quiet moment, Demitra felt something she hadn't felt in a long time-hope.