Tall, Dark, and Anxious (An Adam Driver fanfic)

12

I'm nervous and my body temperature is rising. I follow through. I begin to dance with Adam. The dance is becoming more and more licentious. I'm dancing with my back against his chest, swaying my hips. I blush when I feel him grab my hips and pull me against him.

I continue to dance, rubbing against him. I reach up and wrap my arms around his neck; I tilt my head back and look at him. He smiles down at me. His eyes are warm and seductive. He wraps his arms around me and leans down by my ear, I can feel his breath.

"I thought you were shy," he whispers.

I make sure my lips brush against his ear when I whisper back,

"I'm just trying to loosen you up."

He presses my butt against him again. He chuckles.

"Loose isn't the word I'd use to describe myself right now."

I feel like I'm as red as a fire hydrant right now, and I'm also starting to sweat. He twirls me around to face him. I look up at him and he smiles back down at me; he seems to get distracted, his facial expression changing completely.

He looks around the room. His stare seems so far away.

"Adam?"

I'm starting to worry, he starts fidgeting with his hands. His face is almost a frown now.

"I have to use the bathroom, I'll be right back," he says before rushing off.

"Oh, okay..."

I stay here in the middle of the energetic living room. Lost in a sea of red solo cups and poor drunken mistakes, the room is seemingly vibrating. I'm getting overstimulated.

I don't want to walk away, so Adam can find me when he comes back. Will he come back? I'm beginning to overthink, but I think overthinking is better than letting myself spiral into misery from the amount of sheer anxiety I'm experiencing right now. Disassociation works wonders. I'm starting to worry that I creeped him out or something. I feel like I did too much; he was already anxious from being here. I don't know what came over me. I'm never that bold. He seemed to enjoy it though. I don't understand; he never told me to stop. He didn't seem to mind the grinding, in fact, judging from what I felt, he enjoyed it.

It's been about five minutes now and he still hasn't come back out. I'm starting to wonder if I should go check on him. What if he doesn't want me to? What if he snuck out the bathroom window? Could he even fit through that window? Maybe he's having stomach problems. I sigh. I've decided I'm going to go check on him. I walk to the door I saw him go through and I knock gently, just loud loud enough to be heard over the music.

"Adam, are you okay?"

There's no answer, but the door opens. I look in there to see Adam walking back over to the edge of the bathtub and sitting down; he looks paler than usual. I come in and shut the door behind me.

"Are you alright?" I ask.

He's breathing heavily. The music is muffled outside the door.

'Yeah," he pants.

He looks shaky and scared.

"Are you having a panic attack?"