After the party at the Leaky, Minerva had become anxious. She could have gone to Plasma for the rest of the evening, but knew she would be anxious there just as much as anyplace else.
Having paced inside her room above the Leaky, smoking several cigarettes and drinking a fourth of a bottle of firewhiskey, Minerva admitted to herself why she was so agitated. She had made her decision regarding Atlas but had yet to go see him. She had been putting it off, for no other reason that she was now afraid he would reject her.
After all, Minerva couldn't blame him. Ronan's threat had stayed with her since she met with the large werewolf and though the idea of death didn't bother her anymore and there was nothing he could do to her that she wouldn't accept willingly, Minerva couldn't bear the idea of Atlas rejecting her. When she realized that as she was pacing, Minerva stopped and looked at herself in the mirror.
"You bloody fool," she whispered to herself.
Minerva crushed the cigarette that she had just lit into the overflowing ashtray and grabbed her woolen cloak. It was early still - hours before dawn. But she couldn't wait any longer.
She heard the dogs - dogs? - yapping and barking behind the door after she knocked on it before she heard Atlas. Minerva nearly apparated away just before the door opened out of fear, but she made herself stay.
Stay long enough to see him. Atlas looked at her, rumpled and sleepy and gorgeous. Adorable, even. Her eyes automatically filled with tears.
"No," Minerva whispered, then a second later laughed and shook her head. "I mean yes, I guess. Ummm, I maybe? I dunno."
She bit her lip, her face almost completely obscured by the hood of her cloak but she knew Atlas could see her face. Tears overflowed when she blinked.
"Atlas, I don't want to run away from you anymore," Minerva finally blurted out.