The Stars in our Skies | In progress

Before

His nose brushes against mine as he leans into me. The heat from the dark closet and his body scorching me from the inside out. He doesn't breathe, doesn't move. His lips brush against mine when he whispers, "We're so fucked." He presses into me further as if trying to become one with me and the darkness around us. I can't fucking breathe. The hard lines of his body are making it hard to focus, the smell of him almost dizzying as I press my hand into his chest. His heart hammers beneath my fingers, his own breath ragged as he tries to keep it together. 

There's a sob trying to break loose, trying to expose us to the men waiting just on the other side but I stay quiet, knowing that this was our lives on the line. A low light filters through the slits of the double closet doors, my eyes barely able to make out the figures that are ransacking the room.

They yell at each other, something in a language I don't recognize. My chin is gripped between his thumb and forefinger, and he gently turns my head to his, his lips brushing against the skin of my cheek. So close, we're so fucking close and my heart is pounding out my chest and there's sweat dripping down the back of my neck and the backs of my knees. I am all too aware of everything and nothing as he forces me to look at him.

His eyes are dark, the dark hazel hue blacked out by the shadows that consume his face. I never thought that this is where I would end up. He goes to say something but stops himself, his jaw clenching. 

"Are you sure they were here?" I hear one of them say in English, his accent thick and sluggish. 

"Yes, we saw the girl run up the stairs and tried to follow her, before we knew it, she was gone. The guys are blocking the other exits so I don't know where she could have gone. The window is at least a twenty-foot drop; fall would have killed her before we could," Another answers. I blink at the boy who is as still as stone. His own breath catching as he realizes they are talking about me.  He puts his finger to his lips, shushing me as I shake beneath him.

"Did you check the bathrooms? The closets?"

My eyes go wide, his own staring into me as he tenses, his body pushing us further into the confined space, the clothes on the hangers shift on the wooden beam. We both still.

"What was that?" Silence. Then there is darkness as someone comes close the closet doors. The knob jiggles and groans as he attempts to pull the old thing open. 

"Not sure, the closet door is jammed." They walk away, my breath is now fast, my lungs burning as his hand covers my mouth. He pleads for me to hold it together, his eyes wild and panicked. 

"Shit, we need to go, have the ones out back do a final sweep, make sure she isn't crawling somewhere with a broken leg." There's more silence and then the slam of a door.

We don't move for what feels like forever, our chests pressed so tightly together, we practically breathe for each other. Finally, he steps back as much as he can, a tepid smile on those lips. We don't say anything, wanting to ensure that they leave before we make our presence known. I sigh quietly, steadying my breath and hoping that this would all be worth it.