Dents

[+] Ascension

I woke up to the scent of coffee and burnt toast. A hint of cigarette smoke lingered between each shallow breath.

2D and I had been in Hong Kong nearly two weeks. Our funds were running dry and our food was running out. It didn't bother us any. Simply being in one another's company was enough.

We didn't talk about how I kissed him, or how he kissed me back. He was avoiding the subject. I remained silent as well, afraid that my feelings wouldn't be reciprocated. I agonized at the possibility of it affecting our friendship.

Truly, though, I had come to admire him in a way unlike any other. I loved that sharp accent of his, and the smell of his hair, and the vague t-shirts he seemed to have an endless supply of. I loved his character, his kindness, and his passion for music.

It had become ever clearer that I loved him, if I even remembered what that meant anymore.

I stumbled into the kitchen blindly. I wore a raggedy tank top and sweatpants that we acquired from a sketchy resale shop four blocks down the way. It was one of the only outfits I had that wasn't in dire need of a wash.

Sunlight trickled in streams through the two windows along the center walls of our room. The one nearest to the bed had been stuffed with a clunky air conditioner that spat wet air outward and churned loudly whenever there was a breeze. The carpet was stained with who-knows-what. The television broadcast the morning news.

In Mandarin, of course.

2D leaned against the kitchen counter, rinsing a sizzling frying pan in the sink. A cigarette burned between his teeth. When he saw me, he grinned widely and turned the water off.

"Saoirse."

He looked like he was going to say more. Instead, he brought over two plates and sat beside me at the small dining table in the corner of the room next to the door.

"Did you really do all of this yourself?"

I stared at the plate of food he placed in front of me. The toast was blackened and slathered in a half gallon of butter. The bacon was burnt but still chewy in some spots. The eggs were at least moderately raw. A few dark grounds clung to the surface of the coffee, sticking to the rim of the mug.

It looked awful.

"Thank you, 2D. This looks wonderful."

"No," he sighed, "Looks like rubbish if yew ask me."

He pushed the bacon around with his finger, putting out the cigarette on his eggs.

"I'm serious, 'D. You didn't have to do this."

"Saoirse, listen, I... "

2D was cut off by a sharp knock at the door beside us. The wood shook against the frame. The handle rattled with frustration. It occurred to me that it wouldn't be hard for an unwanted guest to break in.

2D walked past me and squinted through the peephole in the door. I watched curiously as his warm demeanor twisted into one of primal fear.

"Run."

I froze. He shouldn't have had to tell me twice. Yet, it was 2D who latched on to me, dragging me to the window. The noise from outside grew louder as our visitor became more impatient.

"Fuck," he breathed.

He stared at the air conditioner standing between us and freedom.

I took hold of a modest aluminum bat from the umbrella stand beside the door.

"Saoirse, yew can't - "

But I could.

I swung into the air conditioner with all of my strength. The exterior frame crumpled. Bits of plastic scattered across the carpet. I swung again. The door groaned behind me, weakening at the hinges.

With one final strike, sunlight poured through the broken unit into our room. Fragments of the machine hissed dying whirs as we kicked the pieces loose from the window.

I choked back the lump in my throat as I watched 2D pull himself desperately from the window.

He held a hand out to me. I gripped it firmly. He drew me flush to his body. His arm pressed against my back. His hold tightened at my waist.

The air was thick with smog and traffic. I overheard the rhythms of life. Hong Kong bustled with activity, ignorant to our plight.

The grey sky loomed over us ominously. No more solace was to be found here.

Our room was on the seventh floor.

"2D, I - I... "

"Et's alrigh'. I know, okay? Jus' stay focused on me. Don't look down."

In that moment, the door to our place crashed to the floor. A cockney-pitched charlatan hollered and cursed as they rummaged through our belongings. I listened to the shatter of ceramic as they destroyed our breakfast against the tiled wall. Then, they went eerily silent.

2D hummed softly across my cheek.

"Le's go, luv. Come on."

He shimmied a few steps to the left, holding me carefully to his side all the while. The thrum of traffic and construction below was slightly quieted from our height. Through the haze that engulfed everything, I could see only outlines of what lay below.

This gave the illusion that we were thirty stories up, our heads inches from breaking the atmosphere.

Helplessly, I shut my eyes. The concrete wall scraped my skin. Warm droplets of blood bloomed on my palm. I followed the guidance of 2D as he lead us to another window a couple yards from ours, droning sweet nothings into my ear about our safety.

"Jus' gotta have a lil faith, 'at's all, see?"

We were barely three strides from the next window before something smashed against the back of my head.

The whole city stuttered. It glimmered like a steel wonderland between flashing ebbs of black and grey. The colors spiraled together and blotted out, chewed away like burning film.

I was ripped back into reality for a second by the commotion of traffic and 2D's panicked voice calling out to me.

Then, the void. Blackness.