Prompt: I would love if you could do one where Tate accidentally gets himself locked in a small space. Craig finds him but can't calm him down and has to call/get Callum.
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I rolled over and groaned as I knocked my juice over, watching it spill onto the floor. I pouted down at it.
“Do I come into your house and spill fluids all over your floor? No, I don’t, because I have manners!” I said and sat up.
I sighed, jumping off of my bed and leaving my bedroom. I better get a mop to clean that up.
“Mop,” I said and laughed, like anyone actually uses mops anymore. We have a Swiffer!
Oh god I am turning into a baby come back Swiffer commercial.
“I’m also going crazy,” I reminded myself, pulling the closet door open. Well, at least, I tried to pull it open.
“Oh, sure you just hate me,” I grumbled, tugging on it. It swung open and tried to close again, but I caught it. I cautiously entered the tiny closet and wedged a box under the door to keep it from closing. I remembered hearing my dad telling Craig that the door kept shutting and locking.
I searched around for the Swiffer, finding it buried in the corner. I turned on the light and shoved some things out of the way, grabbing the Swiffer.
I froze as I heard a snapping sound, and winced as the door slammed shut. I gripped the Swiffer tightly.
“No,” I whispered and slowly turned around.
The door was shut securely, and I suddenly became aware of just how small this room was. I lunged forward, abandoning the Swiffer and gripping the door handle, shaking it and trying to push the door open.
My breathing increased and my body trembled as tears hit my eyes. I yanked on the door viciously, trying to get it to open.
“Craig!” I choked out, my vision blurred from the tears. “Craig! Someone let me out!”
I slammed my body against the door, panting, trying to get it open. Oh god, get it open. Let me out. Someone please let me out.
I slid down against it, gasping for breath, rocking myself, squeezing my eyes shut tightly, trying not to focus on how damn small the closet was.
The door suddenly opened and I spilled out, almost landing on Craig. He knelt next to me and helped me up.
“Tate! Tate, it’s okay,” he said gently, rubbing my back.
I rocked myself, still panting, because it wasn’t okay, because I was going to piss my parents off and I would have to go back in the closet, the damn closet, god I hated that closet.
“Tate, you’re freaking yourself out. You’re out of there. It’s okay,” Craig assured.
I gripped his arm, my breath hitching even worse, a tear leaking down my cheek. My body continued to tremble.
“I’m going to call Callum, okay?” Craig said, looking at me in worry as he pulled out his cell phone. He dialed Callum, and was talking to him in seconds.
“Hey, Callum? It's Tate, he's freaking out after locking himself in the closet, and I can't calm him dow-hello? Callum? Oh, he already left. Hear that, Tate? Callum is coming, it'll be all right.” Craig tried to reassure me, rubbing my back.
What if they lock me in there before Callum comes? What if they see me with him here and lock me away and I never get to see him again? I buried my face in my arms, rocking back and forth as hot tears spilled down my cheeks. I scooted backwards away from the closet, Craig watching me in concern.
I began to breathe heavier as I stared at the small space, memory after memory of being trapped by myself resurfacing.
I ran my hands through my hair and around to the back of my neck, whimpering. I need Callum.
Suddenly, there was violent knocking on the front door, and Craig ran to get it. I shivered, the pounding reminding me of all the times I banged on the closet door, pleading to be let out, that I couldn't change, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry-
“Tate!” Instantly following the sound of my name there was a familiar pair of arms wrapping around me. “Tate, it's okay. I'm here now, see? I'm here, you're all right.” The sound of Callum's voice sent warmth flooding throughout my body, helping to calm my nerves. I was still shaking, but the hopelessness started to subside.
“T-They were gonna lock me in again, Callum, I w-was alone and-and-”
“Shh, ssh, Tate, you're not alone. Look, look out there.” He pointed toward a nearby window, where the clear blue sky was visible, and the sunlight reflected off the glass onto the tile floor. “You're not trapped, and you're not alone. Your parents aren't here, but I am. See? Everything is okay.” He pulled me back against his chest, and leaned around to kiss my temple.
I could feel my pulse begin to slow to a normal pace, and eventually my breathing evened out as Callum held me.
I was finally able to take a deep, even breath, and turn so I could look at Callum.
“Thank you, Callum. God, I'm such a baby.” I said in embarrassment, covering my face with my hands. He pulled my hands away from my face, and pecked my lips lightly.
“You're not a baby. And I'll always be here when you need me, okay?” He said, looking into my eyes. I smiled, kissing him again, deeper this time.
“Oh gross. I guess that's one way to distract him.” Callum pulled back with a blush, and I rolled my eyes at Craig.
“I would say grow up, but you did just majorly help me out. So, thanks, Craig.” I said, grateful. He shrugged, continuing on his way, but his small smile told me he was relieved to see I was okay.
“Thank you again, Callum,” I said, turning back to him. “I don't know what I would do without you and your booty.” He went from smiling to blushing again, and I smirked.
“Yeah, you're definitely feeling better, Tate. I love you.” He said, and I kissed his cheek.
“I love you, too.”
