She wanted to die.
He wanted to live.
•••
A hand grabbed onto my wrist, yanking me back just as the train rushed past, before I'd even had time to comprehend whether or not I'd carry out the action. I stumbled back into the person's chest, my hear...
(A/N) Here's the end of the previous chapter since I've taken years to update:
Romeo's POV
Holding up three fingers, then two, then one, Cassie sprung up as I followed in tow, our fingers still interlocked as we began running across the hall in the direction of the lift. The bright glare of the flashlight hitting my face nearly made me stumble but Cassie slowed down just long enough to help me carry on, the two of us ignoring the echoing shouts of the guard running after us, his bellowing voice ricocheting off the walls as his heavy footsteps thudded behind us.
Flinging ourselves into the lift, Cassie reached for the buttons on the side of the wall and frantically pressed any random number, turning to look at me for a split second before both of our gazes switched towards the raging security guard. He was only meters away as the lift took its time in closing the doors, the automated voice speaking despite the both of us being too panic-stricken to even focus on what it was saying.
Cassie had her eyes shut tight, not wanting to look to see if the guard would reach us in time as the doors finally began closing, agonisingly slow, until finally they clunked to a complete shut. The frustrated shouts of the guard did nothing to stop the lift as slowly but surely we began move up, our heavy breaths the only noise as the yelling was drowned out by the ascending lift.
We'd made it.
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I'd always had certain triggers: things that with just a mere mention could evoke a strong reaction.
I had things that triggered obsessive thoughts or actions I had to do, I had things that could make me mad within seconds of being mentioned, I had things that could cause panic attacks or a spike in my anxiety levels, but I could never control when and what could trigger me to the point where I became unresponsive.
Sometimes I'd be reading a book with an abusive scene in it, and without realising I'd have a hand on my throat, trying to breathe as tears brimmed in my eyes. Or in a movie scene where the characters were fighting, I'd find myself cringing at the shouting and tensing whenever someone raised their voice. I thought it was just because I was an empathetic person at first, and I felt and related to things too deeply, but when certain scenarios caused me to have flashbacks to past moments in my life, I knew it was more complicated than that.
It was then, opening my eyes as I was crouched on the rising floor of the lift while Romeo sent me a relieved smile, that I realised something within me was wrong. Not the usual panic attack sensation, or epiphany about my ongoing existential crisis, but something in my brain, a mental switch that went off due to a trigger I comprehended moments too late to prevent it.
Initially Romeo hadn't noticed, his onyx orbs glowing with exhilaration as he slumped down next to me, a wide smile across his aristocratic features after outrunning the security guard. The lift had only been moving for a matter of seconds, the gentle clunks as we moved up floor by floor accompanied by the mellow sound of our breathing the least of my worries. He looked so angelic under the soft glow of the lift lights, their slightly yellow hue illuminating the sharpness of his jawline and prominence of his cheekbones as he smiled, a sight too ethereal to be captured.
