DANIEL
I plead with the technician. “How long is it going to take? My friend is stuck in there. She’s claustrophobic. Please be quick.” If I have to beg, I will. I’ve never felt this way before—never been this frightened for someone who isn’t even family. I just need to see her right now, touch her, feel her, and know that she’s alright.
After almost two more minutes that feel like an eternity, the elevator finally starts working. When the doors open and Anya steps out, her eyes are red and puffy, and she looks pale. She runs toward me. My heart stops. I wrap my left arm around her trembling body to support her and hold her tightly, stroking her hair with my right hand.
She’s still sobbing. “Hey, Firecracker, I’ve got you now. You’re alright, baby.” She snuggles into my neck, and even though I love everything about it, people are staring at us. I don’t think she’ll like that, so I carry her toward the staircase. I start climbing the steps, supporting her weight and steadying my own heartbeat. Each step I take seems to bring her closer to me.
When we reach my apartment door, I open it slowly.Her grip on me hasn’t loosened yet, and I find myself liking it. I place her down on the couch. At first, she’s reluctant to let me go, but after whispering sweet words and reassuring her that I’m right here, she sits down. She stares at nothing in particular, so I take her hand in mine and give it a gentle squeeze, which gets her attention.
“I was terrified.” She breathes out. “You were the only one I could think of.”
My lips part and I inhale deeply. My soul feels like it’s shaking. I know this doesn’t mean anything, but it feels like everything to me.
“I couldn’t breathe. I felt like I was going to die, like everything was closing in on me. I wanted to peel off my skin for just a second of relief.” Her words bring me back to reality. “The last time something like this happened, Arnav was there with me. It wasn’t this bad then.”
I see she’s starting to crack again, so I squeeze her hands and rub my thumb over her palms to calm her down.
“I’ll be here with you, Anya, for as long as you want me,” I say. I mean it.Hell, I’ll be here even if she doesn’t want me.
“Please, stay with me,” she whispers, sounding embarrassed.
I nod softly, my heart swelling with a mixture of relief that she’s safe and an overwhelming surge of protectiveness. “I’ll stay, Firecracker. I promise,” I murmur, my voice barely louder than a breath. She relaxes a little at my words, leaning her head against the couch.
I know she needs some time, so I stand up. Her hand immediately catches mine, her eyes flickering with vulnerability.
“I’m just getting you a glass of water. I’ll be right back.” I smile softly, tightening my grip on her hand. “I promise I’ll be back soon,” I reassure her.
Her eyes plead with me—a mix of fear and the need to have me close—but I know she needs a moment to gather herself. She also needs to hydrate after crying and sweatingso much in fear.
Reluctantly, I gently pry my hand away from hers and head to the kitchen. I grab a glass and fill it with water, my thoughts racing with worry for her. I walk back quickly, her fearful face never leaving my mind.
I offer her the glass of water, which she gulps down quickly, her hands trembling slightly around the glass. Her breathing is still uneven, and I know I need to do something to help her calm down.
“Let me make you some chamomile tea,” I say, keeping my tone gentle.
She looks up at me, her eyes wide and glassy. “Chamomile?” she echoes, her voice shaky.
“It’s soothing,” I explain, crouching down to meet her gaze. “It’ll help you feel a little better.”
For a moment, she just stares at me, like she’s trying to decide whether to trust me. Then, finally, she nods. “Okay.”
I get up and head to the kitchen. This should help calm her down. It’s a small thing, but it’s better than doing nothing.
As the kettle boils, I glance over my shoulder to see her sitting on the edge of the couch. Her leg bounces anxiously, and I can feel the weight of her distress even from across the room. With the mug in hand, I head back to the living room, my strides quick and purposeful.
I find her still seated on the couch, her legs drawn up to her chest like a protective shield. My heart breaks seeing her like this. All the confidence and sass have vanished, leaving behind a girl who looks shaken and vulnerable, and it hurts me. I miss her feisty self. I sit down beside her, hoping my presence will offer some comfort.
“I’m sorry,” she says with a weak smile. “I don’t think I can do this today.” She glances away, her voice shaking. “I’ll head home. I don’t want to waste your evening. You must have better things to do than take care of a scared girl.” She laughs weakly, but the tears shining in her eyes betray her.She tries to get up but fails miserably.
I pull her closer, and she shudders at the contact. “Don’t,” I say gently but firmly.
“Don’t what?” She asks breathlessly.
“Don’t ever fake anything with me.” My jaw clenches as I hold her gaze. “And you’re not going anywhere,” I add, leaving no room for argument.
“No, I can’t, Daniel,” she pleads, trying to pull her hand away from mine.
“No,” I respond firmly, gripping her hand again and refusing to let go. “You’re not leaving tonight.” Her eyes widen at my words. She opens her mouth to protest, but I press a finger to her lips. She looks too tired to fight back, and honestly, I need her to stay because I need to know that she’s okay—that she goes back to being her usual self.
