10 Hours (HS)

5:15 pm

I'm being encouraged, STRONGLY, to crawl backwards out of the lobby, past the loan officers cubicles, and in front of the all glass office the manager uses. I'm staring straight ahead, moving very slowly, keeping my eyes on Chuck who is still laying face down with Gunman Number One's foot on his back. I can no longer see anyone else. Brit tugs on my leg to turn left. I risk turning my head and glancing back at him, but as I do, he's also looking behind him trying to see where we're going.

What I can tell is he's pretty tall, as his legs are long in his tight jeans. He's wearing a gray sweater, looks like a white T-shirt underneath. I can see the neck of it as his sweater hangs down in front because of him being on his hands and knees. The sweater sleeves are long, hanging down over his wrists and some of his hand.

Holy fuck. I feel like I'm going to pass out. At any minute, if the gunmen decide to search the bank, they'll find us. What are they going to do? Will they kill us? Use us as hostages?

I just want to run.

Calm. Be calm. If you start hyperventilating, you're going to be seen. Right now, the only ones who know you're here are Chuck and Brit.
Keep it that way.

Brit has a gray beanie and brown hair. Must be long, I can see it poking out at his neck. That's about all I can tell from my quick glance.

Oh my God....I realize I still have my phone! I can call the police!

No. Not yet. Get somewhere safe first or they'll hear you. Besides, probably the teller hit the silent alarm. The police are most likely on their way right now.

Unless silent alarms are only in the movies.

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!

Oh my God...what if Mia calls me back wondering where I am?! My phone will start playing fucking Jason Derulo, Want To Want Me! Then we'll be found.

Killed.

Raped, then killed.

Ok, no...I'm seriously about to pass out. I stop, putting my forehead down, against my hands. Breath Liv. Just breath and get fucking control of yourself! If you cause yourself to get caught, you'll get Brit killed too.

I feel his hand on the small of my back. He's crawled forward and he's almost by my side.

"Hey, it's ok. Let's get up slowly. They can't see us, but they'll be searching the building any second to see who else is here. They can't find us, Love. You understand? They...CAN'T. FIND. US." He says, emphasizing the importance of not being found.

He's right.

I'm still trying to control my breathing as I open my eyes and look over at him. He's just standing up. Boots. He's wearing black boots.

I hear a single shot go off from the lobby. There's screaming, yelling. I suck in my breath, letting out a small cry from my throat. With all the noise in the next room, I know they didn't hear me.

Still.

I can hear one of the gunmen ask who else is in the bank.

Oh shit.

"This is it. We gotta go, NOW. Come on. Can you stand? Take my hand, we're going into the vault."

I nod my head, reaching up for his hand. He takes it, still keeping his one hand on my back, and pulls me up. He turns and we run down the short hallway to the safety deposit box vault.

I was right about his height. He's nearly a foot taller then me.

We run into the vault and he turns quickly, grabbing the heavy steel door, and pulls it shut behind us. It makes a HUGE noise as it slams.

"The noise from the door, they'll hear it!" I say, panicked.

What the fuck is he DOING?!

"Don't worry, they can't get in." He says.

There's a wheel lock, or something on this side of the door, and he grabs it with both hands and spins it.

"We're safe...for now." He says, trying the handle.

Wait.

His hand....

He's still facing away from me, checking the vault door.

I'm looking at his left hand, the sweater isn't covering it any longer.

The tattoo. The rings.

NO. FUCKING. WAY.

Brit turns around and for the first time we actually see each other, face to face.

"I know you've got to be afraid, but trust me...we're safe." He says. "These vaults have a built in safety feature, that once the door closes, as long as it's after 5:00 pm....they lock and can't be opened for twelve hours. Basically the start of the next business day." He says, pulling off his beanie and running a hand through his...

...long loose brown curls.

I'm fucking dreaming.

No. Nope. This is my nightmare. Of all the stupid scenarios...fantasies, I could create in my mind....

...and then he smiles.

"Ah, I see you recognize me. So not the best circumstances to meet, I'm sure you'll agree?" He says, grinning.

Passing out....not even sure what from at this point. The shotgun blasting, ski mask wearing, gunmen waiting to kill us. The realization that I am stuck in a locked vault for twelve hours not completely sure there's twelve hours of oxygen available...

Or the fact that I'm standing two feet from my absolute favorite human being on this entire planet.

I can't...even...breathe.

I feel myself starting to lose it. Dizziness trying to take over what little control I have left of myself.

"Whoa..." He says, as I feel myself sway.

He reaches out, grabbing my shoulders and keeping me from collapsing onto the floor.

"Here, let's sit down." He says. Such a nice voice.

"Are you..." I start to say, then stopping, unable to actually say it.

"What's your name?" He asks, taking my hand in his as we sit down.

"Uh...Olivia. Livvie Maldonado."

"Hi, Livvie. As I said before, not the best fucking circumstances to meet, yeah?" He grins. "I'm Harry Styles."

"Seriously?" Is all I can say.

He smiles, then laughs slightly.

"Seriously. Sooooo, you ok?" He asks, raising an eyebrow.

Now it's my turn to smile. I still can't breathe, but I can smile!

"I'm not even sure what to say! I should be freaking out because of the assholes trying to kill us, but...but, Harry Styles....shit, I can think of worse things then being stuck in a vault with you!" I say, laughing.

He grins.

"I can think of worse things as well, Love." He says, laughing with me.