YOURS INSANELY

Chapter 74

Song: 'Symphony' by Clean Bandit

I'm sorry if it's all too much
Every day you're here, I'm healing
And I was runnin' out of luck
I never thought I'd find this feeling
'Cause I've been hearing symphonies
Before all I heard was silence
A rhapsody for you and me
(A rhapsody for you and me)
And every melody is timeless

And now your song is on repeat
And I'm dancin' on to your heartbeat
And when you're gone, I feel incomplete
So, if you want the truth

I just wanna be part of your symphony
Will you hold me tight and not let go?
Symphony
Like a love song on the radio
Will you hold me tight and not let go?

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HANNAH’S POV

After taking a relaxing shower and a nap that lasted more than half an hour, I returned to the office again. The news of my panic attack spread like wildfire in the office. When I entered, the amount of attention I received certainly made me uncomfortable. I was asked for the nth time if I was alright or not. I know there’s nothing to be embarrassed about, but I can’t help it, especially in front of the new people that I’ve met just today.

I’m not someone who enjoys attention; I like to blend into the crowd, an anonymous person. Now, it doesn’t mean I don’t want people to know about me; I sure do, but as long as I’m not the center of attention.

I guess all I’m saying is I HATE ATTENTION!

Did I tell you I hate attention?

Like…

Shut up, Hans; you’re always babbling when you’re anxious.

“Leave her alone. Back to work, all of you,” came a deep cold, dominating voice of none other than Elijah Alexander Norman, my hero of the day.

Woah! Where did that come from?

I mean, how he rushed to your aid was quite heroic.

I won’t say heroic, but like human decency, you can say.

As per you, he doesn’t have any.

Yeah, that’s true, but given...

Wait a minute, why am I arguing with myself?

I’m trying to divert my attention from the aftereffects I’m feeling after my panic attack ordeal and can’t say it’s helped much because the direction they are taking is leading to another no-go area.

Him.

I haven’t had such a panic attack in years now—a small hiccup here and there, sure, but an attack of this scale—I had almost forgotten what it felt like.

Bad.

It feels bad.

Not that I needed a reminder.

This is why I was reluctant to get on it in the first place; Max had already told me about how the insides look dingy so far and the elevators are small and rusty since they’re temporary.

I should’ve told him about it when he insisted, but as I said, I was afraid he'd judge me or maybe he wouldn't take me serous.

Hiding it didn't help though because he got to know it anyway, that too in the worst way possible.

But something good came out of it.

Now that I’m back to my senses and think back to how he handled the situation—handled me—I have never seen this side of him before.