026 || The closet

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Max's POV

I waited in the dark room. Seven minutes seemed like nothing until I got inside. Now time seemed to pass twenty times slower. There was nothing for me to do.

I sure as hell wasn't going to talk to Sabrina, let alone make out with her like the others had done in here. I let my mind wander.

A small sound dragged me back to the dark room. I frowned, squinting into the darkness. I could see the faint outline of Sabrina's figure.

What was happening?

I could see that she was pressing herself up against the wall. I rolled my eyes, thinking she was just being dramatic again.

"What now?" I sighed.

There was no reply. The only thing I herd was a shakey intake of air. I straightened a little. I could hear muffled noises coming from her. Worry suddenly finned my chest.

"Lifeje, what's wrong?" I asked, letting my voice soften.

She still didn't reply. I drew closer to her to see that she had her hands clasped tightly over her mouth, stifling her sobs. Her face was streaked with tears. I stared at her.

"D-don't come near me." She managed to croak between tiny gasps. Her chest was heaving with effort. Even in the dim light, I could see her shaking. I knew a panic attack when I saw one.

"Hawke..." I began. I wanted to help her. All I wanted was to help her, but I wasn't sure if she would let me.

"No! Stay away from me!" She cried. There was anger in her voice, but I could hear the pain. I felt my heart braking. I didn't know why this was happening to her; maybe it was my fault.

Fuck, I hope not.

I never wanted to make her cry again after what had happened a couple weeks ago. But I couldn't do anything. Without giving her time to yell, I wrapped my arms around her. I pulled her close to me and held her tightly against me.

She let out an angry yell and began to struggle against me. I didn't let go. I wouldn't. She thrashed in my arms, punching at my chest, but I ignored the pain. I knew she needed this, and so did she. She just had to be so stubborn all the time.

"It's okay, darling. You can punch me all you want; I'm not letting you go."

I waited. She spat insults at me, but I never flinched or loosened. Her voice would break with each word. I kept her against me, making quiet, soothing noises.

"Shhh... Liefje, just let me hold you."

Soon, I felt her energy ebbing away. I let out a sigh of relief as I felt her let go. Her anger was replaced with the pain that had been struggling to show for a long time.

I let her fall limp in my arms, burying her face in my chest and sobbing. I could feel her tears soak into my shirt. As I felt her trembling body up against mine, I realized how fragile she truly was. I traced calming circles on her back, whispering reassurance in her ear.

Her tears began to slow. Her hands grasped my shirt as if she were holding it for dear life. I smiled. I stroked the back of her head softly, twirling a strand of her hair around my finger. She didn't move.

There was something comforting about her presence. The feeling of her body against mine made a thrill shoot through me. I held her closer. She was still crying, but softer now. I kept making soft noises. I wanted her to know she was safe.

Always safe with me.

She let out a small whimper, her hold on me tightening. I felt a wave of protectiveness wash over me. Was it? I couldn't be sure. I was pretty drunk still. I probably wouldn't remember any of this tomorrow anyway.

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