part 3 Chapter 4: Panic

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Steven followed behind Spinel as she haphazardly trudged toward the room, forced out of it when she shut the door.

"Spinel! I'm sorry!" He cried, but he could only barely hear her, and she didn't reply. He pressed his face to the door and listened closely, hearing her fall to the floor before what could only be erratic, terrified breathing filled the air.

"Spinel?! What's wrong? Please, let me in!" He called, but all he heard was that choking breathy gasp, alongside scuffling and even the high pitched, concerned squeals of the pebbles. Frantically, he pushed against the door, but Spinel had lodged herself against it enough to hinder his entrance.

"Please let me in?" He begged, as the noise slowed to a deafening silence. "Spinel?"

Steven pushed the door, finally making it budge from behind the gem's dead weight, and forced himself inside, immediately catching sight of the limp and dead eyed friend and the several pebbles who had surrounded her.

"Spinel!" The concern in his voice made her eyes move ever so slightly toward him, but she didn't speak or move, or even indicate that she heard him. Steven hesitated to touch her, knowing he caused this in some capacity. Steven gently, tentatively, grabbed her shoulders to prop her up, silently begging that she would snap out of whatever fugue she was in.

"It's okay, I'm right here, you're safe-"

"Get off!"

He was cut off by a sudden jerk from her as she folded her hands between the two of them, pushing him away in frustration. Spinel shot the boy a glare, making him stop himself from moving after her.

"Spinel-"

"I'm fine!" She spat, though the words trembled when she said them, indicating most definitely otherwise.
Spinel pushed aside the pebbles that had piled around her, crawling far enough away from Steven for some amount of comfort.
Steven, on the other hand, refused to believe the frankly ostentatious lie.

"You're clearly not!" He bit back, as she stood up. "You've hated being here from the start but you're too- too stubborn to admit it!"

Spinel whipped around, her eyes piercing Steven like daggers as he got to hit feet to meet her gaze.

"So?! You hate it here too!" She retorted, balling her fist preemptively.
Steven couldn't help but laugh at her terrible argument. Was she legitimately being serious?

"I do! But I'm not the one walking around all dead eyed, having panic attacks everytime someone touches me!" His words ripped into Spinel and she grit her teeth at them, averting her eyes to hide the tears in them.

"At least I'm being graceful in my discomfort!"

Too far. And he knew it, he didn't mean to say it like that, and he knew he had to back down or at least try to backpedal. He immediately saw the hurt in her eyes.
Spinel took a step backward, accidentally hitting the dresser.

"I'm sorry, Spinel, I didn't mean it like that." He tried to diffuse the situation, alleviate the tension, but her eyes only flickered to the ground while she searched for something to say back.

"Get out." She spoke softly, making it hard for Steven to hear.

"What?"

Spinel's eyes shot up from the floor and her face twisted into rage, the kind of rage he hadn't seen in a long, long time.

"GET OUT!!" Spinel blew up her fists and violent slammed them into the ground, forcing Steven toward the door. As quickly as he could manage, Steven opened the door and retreated, just as a chair was flung at it in Spinel's fury.

The chair shattered into splinters on the door and just as quickly as the anger had consumed her, it was gone, leaving Spinel to crumple to the floor in a heap of tears.
She smack her head against the ground in meager self punishment at her outburst before sinking further into the deep hole of despair that had opened up underneath her.

Steven let out a sigh of temporary relief, as much as he hated it, he had gotten a reaction out of her, aside from empty replies. Still, he slinked down the door and sat on the ground, lightly hitting his head on the door in frustration before resigning to wait until she had finished this tantrum.
He could hear her crying inside, and knew at least part of it was because of his poor choice of words, the other parts were more than likely her own way of tearing herself down for whatever discombobulated reason she found to do so. They needed to leave.
For the both of them, it would be better.

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