Control

30 - Between Floors

a/n - AHHH 900k reads!!!! Thank you all so so much!! As a thank you, I'll release two chapters just for you all! The one after this is FUN so get ready for that :)

The elevator jolted, a violent sort of lurch, the kind that made my stomach drop, and then everything went eerily quiet. It felt like being put in time out, like the building, the skyscraper, had decided that Vince and I needed to sit and think about our choices.

The lights flickered.

Once. Twice.

Then, all at once, they dimmed rapidly, before a single strip of light could be seen from the outside of the paneling above us, just at the rim of the tiny box we were put in– no, that we put ourselves in.

"Oh." I say, my voice brighter than I felt. "That's...not good."

Vince swears, all sharp and canine-like. I could only hear him now, and barely make out a dark silhouette as he moved to the button panel and jammed every button on there repeatedly, like it had personally betrayed him.

Nothing happened.

He exhales through his teeth, breathing faster than before, faster than he probably means to. He pulls his phone out, taps the screen, and swears again.

I see him run a hand through his short-ish brown hair, and I can hear more so than see his tongue run along the top of his teeth, sucking in any air he can now. His chest is surely rising up and down faster and faster, if the noise I'm hearing is any consolation.

I back up as far as I can into the wall behind me, trying to level out my breathing. I bring a hand up and rub it against my chest in circles, hoping that that will keep me calm.

Don't think about the enclosed space, Don't think about the enclosed space, Don't think about the enclosed space.

The darkness of the elevator isn't helping. Nor is my elevator partner.

"Shit." Vince swears louder, his voice more gruff since the last time he swore. "It's fucking dead."

This does not help my brain. If anything, I feel it do a little spin in my head, if that's possible. I can feel my thoughts bounce around like (rainbow) rubber balls, and Vince is starting to pace in the tiny space, and—

"Okay," I say quickly, more to myself than him. "Okay, everything's okay."

He presses the emergency button again. Holds it. Lets go. Holds it again.

Still nothing.

Vince lets out a sound that's half groan, half shout. "Everything is not fucking okay."

"Yelling won't make it more okay," I say. My voice comes out steadier than I feel.

I can't see him clearly, just the dark shape of him moving, but the pacing has gotten worse. He's circling now. Tight loops. Each pass bringing him a little too close to me before he veers away again. Over and over. Like he's burning off panic with friction.

"Not helpful, Elliana," he snaps.

My jaw tightens. "Don't call me that, please."

"Elliana."

I close my eyes, take a deep breath, before releasing, still rubbing my hand on my chest. I slide down the wall until I'm sitting, putting most of my weight against the cool metal, pointedly not looking at him. I reach into my back pocket, and luckily, my phone is there.

"You can take mine," I say, holding it out. "It's charged."

He freezes.

Then he moves toward me too fast, misjudging the space. His calf bumps into my leg, sharp and accidental, and he mutters something under his breath before crouching near me. He's not looking—just reaching, blind and frantic—until his hand finds my arm.