An Orphic Love

TWENTY FIVE

Author's Note: woohoo chapter 25!! lets hope for 25 more...!! ha... 

TW: language, mentions of anxiety and death. 

MERCEDES

April 15th (5 AM)

"We should probably get up," I clear my throat, and mutter to Dario. He groans in annoyance. All I can do is hide a smile.

"Why?" An older woman drags her suitcase down the hall. She looks us up and down and practically sneers as she struts. I roll my eyes and face Dario, who gives the woman a fake smile.
"That," I say after she passes. "And, because we paid for bedrooms, Dario," I laugh.

I found him out here about 15 minutes ago. He looked very... focused on whatever he was looking at on his phone. But, something was off. He was shaking pretty badly, and I don't think he was breathing... regularly. So, I sat next to him. It was weird. Or, it was at first. Sitting in the hallway of a hotel. Actually, it still is weird. And, there's not much space between me and Dario. It's my fault, considering I'm the one who sat here. I think my spatial awareness was off. But, here we are. And I'm... slightly panicky but mostly curious. Curious about Dario, as usual.

I was right. When he snapped at me in the parking lot, I wasn't hurt by it. I mean, it definitely caught me off guard. We spent hours last night fixing us. His attitude was out of character. But then I noticed that his hands were shaking. Matter of fact, his whole body was shaking and his voice sounded all choked up. His eyes were red.

It reminded me of my anxiety, of course. And when I asked, just a few minutes ago, he pretty much confirmed it. I used to get anxiety attacks, too, for reasons I don't remember. I still get them, especially when thinking about certain things. But somehow not as much as I used to. I don't think.

Anyways, now we're here. On the floor of the hotel hallway, getting weird looks and stares from snobby passerbyes. Sitting next to each other, with a few inches of space between us. I was holding his hand earlier too. I think that's what did it. I feel on edge.

Dario groans, like an old man, as he stands up. I snicker. He's not that old.

"Fine," He dimples at me, as if he wasn't just on the ground shaking moments before this. It's endearing, but also kind of worrying. How often does he pretend like this? And why?

"I'll walk you to your room," He offers me a hand. I snort. My room is across the hall. It's quite literally two steps. I don't need to be walked. His hand is still hovering near my face and his little smirk makes me think he knows exactly what he's doing. Still, it's only two steps!

I stand up with his help anyway and take the two steps over to my door with him. Hand in hand. He's got nice hands. Warm, and not too soft or too rough. They're got a bunch of teeny freckles all over them, too.

"Actually," He stops me before I press the card up to the key.

"I think I might've found something,"

...

We're downstairs, siting in the hotel cafe that's dimly lit. Surprisingly, we're not alone. There's a college student studying for finals, probably, and a businessman muttering something over the phone, looking very stressed. And than there's us. Me and Dario. We're sitting at a table, with two Charlotte books in front of us, a mug of coffee (for Dario), my notebook, and Google open on his phone.

"So... You think Relanded Alphorn is a... is an anagram?" I ask him. Dario nods, with a steady smile on his face. I could see that.

"I'm not good with words, I mean, you're the one who read dictionaries for fun- by choice- but..."