Noah woke up to a sudden pull at his hair and a wet swipe across his cheek.
Luna's tiny claws were tangled in his curls, and Sunny's tongue was already all over his face. He jerked up with a half-groan, blinking hard against the pale morning light bleeding through the blinds.
"Okay—okay, good morning," he mumbled, rubbing his face. His eyes felt gritty, his mouth dry.
He dropped Luna gently on the bed and glanced at the clock. 7:06.
With a sigh, he scooped both animals and headed downstairs. The city light leaking through the blinds was cold and silvery.
Sunny got her leash. Luna hopped onto the kitchen counter, tail twitching as she watched him with those big round eyes.
Noah slipped on his hoodie—the old gray one with the frayed cuffs—and took Sunny out into the quiet park. The air smelled like wet leaves and early coffee from the corner cart, that burnt-bitter smell that always meant morning. His breath made small clouds in the cold air.
By the time they returned, Lydia was in the kitchen—barefoot, coffee mug in hand, hair falling loose around her shoulders.
"Morning," she said, smiling.
"You're up early."
"Luna and Sunny made sure of that," Noah replied, unclipping Sunny's leash. The dog immediately headed for her water bowl, tags jingling. "Why are you up?"
"Atlas is picking me up in an hour. We're heading to Hudson Valley. Alice and Sienna booked a shoot."
He blinked. Stopped mid-reach for a coffee mug. "Wait—how's Atlas involved?"
"I texted him last night," Lydia said lightly, like it was nothing. "He said yes."
Noah stared for a moment. His jaw tensed. He exhaled through his nose, set the mug down with more force than necessary.
"You could've told me."
"You'd have said no." Lydia laughed, already reaching for her phone. "You're coming too, right?"
"I don't know."
"Come on. I told Atlas you might. I even sent him photos of Sunny and Luna."
"Why would you do that?" His voice came out sharper than he meant.
"Because look at them!" she said, pointing at Sunny wagging her tail like a maniac. "He's gonna love them."
Noah muttered something under his breath and headed for the shower. His shoulders were tight, that familiar knot forming at the base of his neck.
---
In the shower, the sound of water filled the apartment, muting the city below. Steam rose around him, fogging the glass door.
He leaned against the cool tiles, eyes closed. Go or don't go?
The water beat against his shoulders, almost too hot, turning his skin pink.
He shook his head. "No," he told himself. "Not today."
But then—Atlas's look on Friday flickered in his mind. That unguarded moment. That half-smile that made Noah's stomach do something complicated.
By the time he stepped out, towel around his waist, water still dripping down his spine, his reflection smirked back at him in the steamed mirror. Maybe just go.
He dressed down: jeans, a white t-shirt, and the new red hoodie. A spray of his usual cologne—the new one, cedar and something sharper.
Downstairs, Luna and Sunny circled his feet as he prepped breakfast. He tried not to think about Atlas—failed instantly. His hands moved on autopilot, cracking eggs, heating the pan.
"Why is Atlas coming, again?" he asked aloud. His voice echoed slightly in the empty kitchen.
"Because Lydia texted him," he answered himself, shaking his head.
Lydia walked in, hair damp, glowing with energy, wearing a vintage denim jacket over a black turtleneck.
"You're actually dressed," she teased. "So you're coming."
" Someone's gotta stop you," Noah said, a corner of his mouth lifting despite himself.
"I'm not commenting on you and Atlas," she fired back, grinning wide.
"Don't," he warned, but there was a hint of a smile pulling at his lips.
"Fine, fine. He'll be here in twenty."
She grabbed her Canon M50, slides Luna into a transparent carrier.
"You're bringing Luna?" Noah asked, eyebrows raised.
"Of course. She photographs well."
"You're not normal," he muttered, grabbing Sunny's leash. The leather was worn soft in his hand, familiar.
---
Atlas was already there—leaning against his car outside the park, the morning sun catching on the silver of his watch. Calm, tailored, unreadable. He had one ankle crossed over the other, arms folded loosely across his chest. The light made his dark hair look almost bronze at the edges.
Noah crossed the street with Sunny in his arms, his heart doing something annoying in his chest. Their eyes met across the pavement. A small smile, hesitant but real, curved Atlas's mouth.
"Hey," Atlas said. His voice was low, careful.
"Hey," Noah replied. His grip on Sunny tightened without him meaning to.
Lydia rushed ahead, hugging Atlas. "Morning!"
Atlas returned the gesture with his usual reserve, then spotted Luna through the carrier—grins, actually grins, his whole face changing.
"You brought the cat."
"She's photogenic," Lydia said proudly.
"I can see that," he murmured, glancing at Noah, who was now beside them. The look lasted half a second too long.
"Can I hold her?" Atlas asked, nodding toward Sunny.
Noah hesitated. Why was he hesitating?
He passed her over.
Their hands brushed—brief, electric, skin against skin for just a heartbeat. Neither looked up right away. Noah pulled his hand back and shoved it in his pocket.
Sunny licked Atlas's jaw. He laughed quietly, surprised, that soft sound Noah remembered too well.
"Friendly one, huh?"
"She picks people carefully," Noah said. His throat felt tight.
Atlas smiled at that, soft but deliberate, his eyes warm. "Guess I passed the test."
---
They slid into the car—Lydia already in the backseat with Luna, humming to herself.
Noah sat up front, Sunny in his lap. The dog was already curling into a ball, warm and heavy against his thighs.
The city blurred behind them—bridges, fall trees turning copper and gold, the slow sprawl of morning light across the water. The Hudson stretched out below them, gray and glittering.
"Didn't think you'd come," Atlas said eventually, eyes still on the road. His hands rested easy on the wheel, left wrist loose against the window.
" Someone had to keep her alive," Noah said, faintly smiling despite himself.
Atlas's mouth twitched. "You're a good friend."
Silence folded in for a while, easy but charged. Noah found himself watching Atlas's hands—the way his thumb traced barely visible circles on the leather wheel. That habit. He'd forgotten about that. Or maybe he hadn't. Maybe he'd just tried to.
"Have you been to Hudson before?" Atlas asked.
"As a kid. Don't remember much." Noah kept his eyes forward, watching the trees pass.
"Didn't know you liked these things."
"What things?"
"Trips. Photos. People."
Atlas laughed under his breath. "You think I only go to galas?"
"Something like that," Noah admitted. A smile pulled at his mouth without permission.
"When I get the time, I drive out—castles, gardens." Atlas paused, his fingers adjusting slightly on the wheel. "You'd like Sudeley Castle. Or Hopetoun House."
"Maybe one day," Noah said, and for a second their eyes met before Noah looked back at Sunny. His chest felt warm and tight at the same time.
Sunny tilted her head toward Atlas, watching him with those big brown eyes.
"How long have you had her?"
"Three weeks," Noah said.
Atlas hummed, a quiet, unreadable smile forming.
Lydia hummed along to music in the backseat, half-distracted, scrolling through her phone, completely oblivious.
"She moved in with you?" Atlas asked, glancing briefly at Noah.
"Thankfully, no." Noah's voice softened. "But it's… nice having her around."
"Can't imagine living with Evelyn," Atlas said after a pause. His jaw tightened just slightly. "We were close once. Not anymore." His voice stayed calm, but something flickered across his face. "Leander and Evander are eleven now. They keep her busy."
"Right. Twins," Noah said. "You saw them recently?"
"Last week. Their birthday." Atlas's thumb went still on the wheel for a moment, then resumed its slow circle.
A small silence settled between them. The kind that wasn't empty.
Then—
"When's yours?" Atlas asked, glancing sideways. The sun caught his profile, made the line of his jaw sharp.
"December seventh," Noah said.
He hesitated for a second, then glanced at Atlas. "What about you?"
Atlas's eyes stayed on the road. "December twenty-third."
Noah smiled faintly. "That's close."
"Close enough," Atlas said, the corner of his mouth lifting. Atlas's eyes stayed on the road. "December twenty-third."
Noah smiled faintly. "That's close."
"Close enough," Atlas said, the corner of his mouth lifting. "Plans?"
"Probably a few beers with friends. Same as every year," Noah said.
"Family?"
"Still doing the cake thing. Tradition." Noah's lips curved slightly, thinking about his mom's chocolate cake, too much frosting, Lydia stealing the corner pieces.
Atlas nodded, slow, like he was filing the date away somewhere important.
Up ahead, Alice and Sienna were already waiting near their car, waving.
Atlas parked smoothly. The engine went quiet. Lydia was out first, Luna's carrier swinging by her side, her boots crunching on gravel.
Noah stepped out with Sunny. The wind was cooler here, cutting through his hoodie, sharp and clean. The light softer, filtered through trees. Everything smelled like earth and fallen leaves and woodsmoke from somewhere distant.
Atlas shut the door. His shoulders relaxed—just slightly, barely noticeable unless you were looking. He looked toward the hills, the rust and gold of the trees, the valley spreading wide and open.
"Not bad for a Sunday," he said quietly.
Noah glanced at him. Smiled without meaning to, the expression pulling at his mouth before he could stop it.
"Could be worse," he said.
The air felt lighter now—like something finally unclenched between them. Not gone, but looser. Easier to breathe.
The street smelled like coffee—real coffee, not the burnt stuff from the corner carts—and something else. Cold river air, maybe. That clean, sharp smell that came off water in November.
Noah walked a few steps behind Lydia, Sunny warm and solid in his arms. Luna was zipped into her carrier on Lydia's back, her little gray face pressed against the mesh, watching everything with those huge round eyes.
Atlas walked ahead. Tall, shoulders back, hands in his jacket pockets. His breath made small clouds in the cold air that disappeared as fast as they formed.
The storefronts here were different from the city. Vintage shops with brass frames in the windows, hand-painted signs for cafes and bookstores, brick buildings with ivy crawling up the sides. Soft fog hung between them, clinging low to the ground. Somewhere down the block, someone was playing guitar—acoustic, something Noah almost recognized but couldn't name.
Alice spotted them first.
Her whole face changed—lit up, warm and immediate. She waved, her camera bouncing against her chest as she crossed toward them.
"Noah!"
She wrapped him in a hug before he could even shift Sunny to one arm. Kissed his cheek, European-style, then pulled back with her hands on his shoulders, studying his face like she was checking for something.
"You look good," she said. "How are you?"
"I'm okay." Noah smiled, a little thrown by how direct she was. "Yeah. Good."
Alice glanced past him. Atlas was approaching now, slower, hands still in his pockets.
Something playful flickered across her face.
"You look good too," she said, smirking as she pulled Atlas into a hug.
Atlas chuckled—quiet, easy. His arms went around her briefly, then dropped. "So do you."
They had that rhythm. The kind that came from knowing someone for years, the kind where you didn't have to explain jokes or finish sentences.
Alice turned back to the group, gesturing.
"This is my brother, Dorian." A guy in his almost twenties, dark hair, paint-stained jeans, holding a vintage film camera. He nodded at them. "And that's Sienna's sister, Selena."
Selena waved. She looked like Sienna but younger, sharper somehow—leather jacket, undercut, eyeliner sharp enough to cut.
Everyone shook hands. Murmured greetings. Sunny wriggled in Noah's arms, whining a little, and Sienna crouched down immediately.
"Oh my god, she's adorable." Sienna reached out, let Sunny sniff her hand before petting her head. "And Luna—look at those eyes!"
Lydia turned so they could see Luna better. The kitten blinked slowly, unbothered by all the attention.
For a few minutes, everyone talked over each other. Easy laughter, the rustle of camera straps, Lydia already snapping candid shots—Alice mid-laugh, Sienna petting Sunny, Dorian adjusting his lens.
Then they started walking.
The trail led up toward the hills, winding through trees that were half-bare, leaves scattered across the path in wet clumps. The ground was soft underfoot, still damp from yesterday's rain.
---
Alice and Atlas fell into step at the front. Naturally. Like they'd done this a hundred times before.
They were talking, voices low enough that Noah couldn't make out words. Just the rhythm of it. Atlas leaning in slightly when Alice said something that made her laugh, her hand briefly touching his arm.
Behind them, Sienna walked with Lydia, Dorian, and Selena. They were talking shop—lighting angles, camera setups, something about a 50mm versus an 85mm that Noah didn't follow.
Noah lagged a few steps behind. Sunny pressed against his chest, warm and getting heavier by the minute. He could feel her heartbeat, quick and steady.
He watched the group ahead. Watched Atlas's shoulders, the easy way he moved, the way his head tilted when he was listening.
What are they talking about?
He shook his head slightly. Doesn't matter.
The air smelled like pine. Like damp earth and woodsmoke from somewhere far off. His breath fogged in front of him with every exhale.
After a while, Alice drifted back toward Sienna, saying something about light and angles. Atlas slowed down until he was walking beside Noah.
For a few steps, neither of them said anything.
Then Atlas glanced at Sunny. "Want me to carry her for a bit?"
Noah looked at him. "You sure?"
"Yeah."
Noah shifted Sunny carefully into Atlas's arms. Their fingers brushed—warm skin against cold morning air, just for a second. Noah pulled his hand back and shoved it into his hoodie pocket.
Atlas adjusted Sunny against his chest, one hand under her, the other steadying her. She immediately started licking his chin, tail going wild.
"She's got energy," Atlas said, smiling down at her.
"She's selective." Noah kept his voice even. "Doesn't warm up to everyone."
Atlas looked at Sunny, then at Noah. His expression softened. "Guess I'm lucky then."
Noah exhaled through a quiet laugh, looked away toward the trees. His chest felt warm in a way that had nothing to do with the walk.
---
They reached Beacon's main street.
Brick buildings lined both sides, narrow and close together. Hand-painted café signs, a bookstore with stacks visible through the window, a vintage record shop with a faded awning. The hum of weekend life—low voices, footsteps, a dog barking somewhere.
Dia Beacon was nearby. Noah could see the museum's clean lines in the distance, modern against all the old brick. A couple walked past with matching scarves and art prints tucked under their arms, deep in conversation.
Everyone else had their cameras out now—Lydia, Alice, Sienna, Dorian, Selena. Snapping shots of murals, market stalls, faded signs advertising things from decades ago.
Only Atlas and Noah were empty-handed.
Lydia came running over, breathless, Luna's carrier bouncing against her hip.
"Hold her a sec—" She thrust the carrier into Noah's arms before he could respond, then darted off toward Alice and Sienna, already framing her next shot.
Noah looked down at Luna. She looked back, unimpressed.
He glanced at Atlas. They both started laughing at the same time—quiet, under their breath, but real.
Atlas shifted Sunny to one arm so he could see Luna better. "She looks judgmental."
"She is judgmental," Noah said. "She judged my coffee this morning."
"What'd she decide?"
"That I'm a disappointment."
Atlas grinned. Actually grinned, his whole face changing. "Strong opinions."
"She's a cat."
They moved closer to where the others were setting up shots. Old murals, cracked and fading but still vivid—someone's rendering of the Hudson, a geometric design that looked like it was from the seventies. Market stalls with handmade jewelry and vintage clothing.
Atlas watched them work, his weight shifting slightly onto one leg, Sunny still tucked against him.
"They're in their element," he said.
"They really are." Noah was smiling without meaning to.
Lydia spun around suddenly and snapped a photo of them. No warning. Just click.
"You two look ridiculous!" she called out, laughing.
Noah raised an eyebrow at her. Didn't say anything, just gave her a look.
Atlas, beside him, caught his eye.
Winked.
Noah saw it. Felt his face get warm.
"You shouldn't encourage her," he said, trying for annoyed but not quite managing it.
"Why not?" Atlas's tone was light, teasing.
"She's going to post them. For engagement."
Atlas laughed—soft, easy. "She already does. Every time I open Instagram, I see you."
Noah blinked. "What? How—"
"We follow each other. " Atlas looked down at Sunny, scratching behind her ears. "It's basically a Noah feed at this point."
Noah groaned, tipped his head back. "I tell her to stop. She says the algorithm loves me."
"You should read the comments under that photo of you sleeping with Luna."
"I didn't." Noah's face was definitely warm now. "But the group chats were—horrifying."
They both laughed. It sat easy between them, comfortable in a way it hadn't been in weeks.
---
The group started climbing toward a small overlook.
The path got steeper, narrower. Tree roots crossed the trail, slick with moisture. Noah had to watch his footing, adjust Luna's carrier on his arm.
Alice glanced back now and then. Not obviously, just quick checks. Her eyes would land on Atlas and Noah, something thoughtful flickering across her face before she turned back to Sienna.
Noah lifted his phone. Took a quick photo—the view opening up ahead, the others silhouetted against gray-blue sky, Atlas still holding Sunny.
Atlas noticed. Pulled a ridiculous face at the camera—eyes crossed, tongue out.
At the exact same moment, Sunny licked his cheek.
Noah tried not to laugh. Failed completely. The sound came out strangled, helpless.
Atlas started laughing too—full and open, his shoulders shaking.
Everyone turned around.
Lydia's face lit up. "That's going on the grid." She already had her camera up, snapping shots of both of them.
Noah turned away, hiding his face in one hand. His cheeks hurt from smiling. "Oh my god."
Atlas was still laughing, looking at him with something warm and amused in his eyes.
"You're not helping," Noah muttered, but he was smiling too wide for it to land.
"What do you want me to do?" Atlas's voice was light, teasing, that softness still there underneath.
"Maybe stop getting us documented." Noah looked at him, shaking his head, but couldn't stop grinning.
Sunny barked once, sharp and happy, like she was in on the joke.
The moment stretched—just the two of them and the cold November air and the sound of cameras clicking somewhere behind them.
Atlas's expression shifted. Still smiling, but quieter now. Like he was seeing something that mattered.
Noah looked away first. Had to.
But the warmth stayed.