A/N: I was going through and updating phrasing and links and discovered a missing portion previously published elsewhere. Apologies! It also hits a little different considering current events.... but keep in mind the story was written back in 2015.
[ an unseen moment from the 12 hour saga based on a prompt received: ]
- if I could do this all again, I would -
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-HOUR TEN-
Your would-be-rescuers seem to be no closer to figuring out a way to free you than they were when they started and a calm has settled – post dinner, murder attempt, and restroom relief found. Rather than continue to watch the proceedings like the trapped rats that you are, you and Tom do the best you can to entertain yourselves.
Tom has his head tilted back again and is staring up at the sides of the elevator that loom above the pair of you. It gives you a lovely view of the way his Adams apple bobs as he speaks. "Do you think they wipe the walls down every night?"
"Hmm – what?" You blink away your distraction, because admiring anything about him is just wrong. You try to pretend a focus on the nearly-reflective wall behind him and catch up to his line of thought.
"Or maybe just ever other night?" He squirms as his focus drifts over the stainless steel that surrounds the pair of you, "There's got to be some routine in place."
They clean the hallways, that you know for certain. But what about the elevator? Tom's right – at least you hope he's right – they probably have a routine in place for wiping down the most frequently touched surfaces.
Suddenly you don't want to be leaning against anything for a little while.
You shudder, leaning forward until the thought can escape your brain and you can relax again. "Thanks for that, Sunshine."
Tom smiles, removing his attention from your surroundings and focusing on you once more. You're starting to get used to his smiles. They no longer send a wave of irritation coursing through you. "I have a confession."
Tilting your head to the side, you blink at him, "Do I want to hear it? If it's something more about the—"
"I'm enjoying being stuck in here with you." He cuts you off. "I was mentally damning myself for not choosing the stairs, earlier. But now..." he tosses his shoulders in a lazy shrug, spreading his fingers wide as he turns his palms up, "If we could somehow restart the day again, jump back? I wouldn't change a thing. I'd choose the elevator, just like before."
You harrumph, not quite smiling at him. "You wouldn't choose exercise over this extended quarantine?"
"Nope. If I could do this all again, I would."
A yawn cuts off your response as it forms. You stretch instead, allowing the yawn to go its course as you study the man seated on the floor before you. This morning? You hated him. Couldn't stand to do more than walk past him in the hallway. Now? Now you're feeling much the same way. Being stuck with him, being forced to get to know him... maybe he's not so bad, after all.
