This Is Inevitable | #ONC2022

Chapter 5 | This Is Warm

Five minutes ago it was pleasantly cool here. Now, I'm both literally and metaphorically sweating balls, my clothing coated in a thin layer of sweat. Tate's feeling it too; as we sit on the floor, he wipes his brow free from sweat, flicking the drops against the wall. Gross. Remind me to sanitize my hands once we're out of here.

I kick off my shoes. Tate follows quickly. My few moments of relief were overshadowed by Tate's interesting choice in sockwear. Never took him for a man that would wear odd socks. Not even the cute and quirky kind, where it's two different patterns; one was a hidden sock and another was a three-quarter length sock. At least the prints were the same colour.

Tate hasn't had a freakout in a little while now. My watch tells me that ten minutes have passed. Every now and then we hear a bang or thumping behind the walls (we figured it's footsteps or hopefully someone trying to get us out) and with every ding and pang, I'm even starting to feel claustrophobic. I hope Tate picked up on those calming lessons, because he may need to exercise them on me later.

Tate stands up. In one move, he sheds his blazer, delicately folding it and putting it into a corner next to his shoes. Seizing the opportunity, I do the same, throwing it on the floor. He gives me a look.

"You're just gonna drop it? Not even make it all neat? It looks expensive."

I shrug. He shakes his head, dropping the subject.

Turning his attention to the intercom again, he prodded the button and tried speaking. "Hello? It's been a while now, can anyone hear us again? Starting to roast like a chicken nugget in a crematorium in here."

As he continues to speak to an imaginary person, my eyes watch his form. His clothing really did nothing to hide his physique, although the sweat may be making the fabric cling tighter to his skin. The shirt strained as he moved his arms up and down, his fingers presssing more buttons. He turned to me after pressing a few buttons, and I barely snap my eyes away from his body in time for him to notice.

"Kian, look! The buttons still light up if we press them. Should we? It's kinda dark in here..."

He hovers his fingers over several buttons. I shake my head no, getting up to stand next to him.

"Probably not a good idea. What if that makes it more difficult for people to come get us? Or worse, what if it ends up sending us to each of the floors once the elevator is back up and running?"

"We could just get out of the first floor it sends us to, you know," Tate retorts. I go to speak, but nothing comes out.

"...true. But, what if something just happens?  I wouldn't trust this lift with anything after this."

Tate laughs. "You're so paranoid. I'm doing it."

Before I could protest, he presses all the buttons with the joy of a kid popping a full sheet of bubble wrap. Soon, the room is a little brighter, the orange glow of the button board emanating like a small flamed candle in the back of wide hallway. Proud of his work, he sits on the floor beside the board, back against the wall.

"Great. Hopefully all that light doesn't make the room warmer."

"Aw, is that such a bad thing? What, you afraid I'll have to take my shirt off or something?"

I stammered. The words in my head wouldn't come out of my mouth. I only could muster a few splutters of sounds, making Tate laugh.

"Jeez man, I was joking. No need to get all hot and bothered."

"I'm- I'm not hot and bothered! Well, I am hot and bothered, but not because of you! It's the damn heat. Y-you're the hot and bothered one!"

I fold my arms. He arches an eyebrow at me, a smirk forming at the corner of his lips.