HE? (IS ME)

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This is it

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This is it. Tessa, get your shit together. Har-

I reach forward, patting his denim pockets hysterically, and he looks up at me stoically. Hardin, don't you fucking do this to me!

I fumble out his phone, lifting his hand up, to unlock it with his biometric, and he just- blindly complies. I ignore the deadly pang of hurt and open up the contacts. I immediately scroll down to Trevor's name, but wait- he's with Collins, he's not even in the building.

I scroll back to Josh's name and call him up. I gulp nervously. Two rings. Five. JOSH!

"Hey, man, I think I messed something up here, you got voltage there?" His voice beeps through the phone and I feel a gush of relief.

"Josh?"

"Tessa? Hey-"

"Get down here fast. There's no lights, it's pitch dark. The door, it's shut, it won't open, and Ha-"

I pause abruptly, as I look at Hardin staring at me intently, like a scared, vulnerable child.

"I'm panicking, so just. Come open it please." I state into the phone, gazing at him softly.

"Shit. Yeah, wait up. I'll just be there, okay I'm on my way."

Josh hangs up, and I hurriedly turn on the flashlight, keeping the phone gently down on the floor. A beam of light floods in, and Hardin squints, before blinking.

He needs the light.

I look at him, face bathed in the dim light, tiny particles flying aimlessly on the streak of white light.

"Here. Okay? We got trapped, lights went out, and the door won't open. I called Josh, he's coming. You'll be out, just- in a minute."

I explain it slowly to him, so that he listens and understands everything- so that he returns from whatever dark place he is, alone and scared.

Hardin simply keeps staring, his confusion slowly fading away. His stare turns into a soft gaze as he ultimately slips back into the now. I spot the fleck of recognition in his eyes, and I know he knows it's me.

The screeching silence slashes against my ears. Lazily, without one word, he simply crawls himself back into my shoulder blade, holding my around the waist, and I wrap my arms around him protectively.

We continue to sit, my knees have turned painfully numb by now, but I can't move- not- now. I feel too hot. Regardless, I keep drawing mindless patterns, along his back, his t-shirt almost drenched with sweat now.

Minutes pass by. His breathing has slowed down. And he hasn't spoken anything in so long, that I turn a bit anxious.

"Hardin?" I call him out softly, and he grunts lightly. "You okay?"

He shifts a bit, readjusting his head.

"You should go." He mutters, breathily, nuzzling closer into me, and I roll my eyes.

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