don't breathe
♚ ♛
BREATHE.
Run. Run. Run.
"¿Dónde está?"
Nowhere.
Hide. Never stop spidering through shadows of empty lots and deserted parks and back alleys. Stay lost. Stay in motion. It was the only way to survive. Because if you couldn’t be caught, you couldn’t be killed.
“Ah, mierda,” a low, thick rumble, too close, “you lost her?”
It wasn’t difficult to get lost, or stay lost, in a city that never ran out of hiding spots, but it was also a city that never sleeps, never pauses, never falters, never hesitates, never stops moving. New York City had become a psychological playground, and I couldn’t remember where I’d been.
“¡Búscala!”
I stumbled as I spared a single glance over my shoulder that I knew could get me killed.
My head tilted. Hazy, the sheen of a gleaming, pink-white sign above, blurred vision, heavy, wet lashes glittering in panicked blinks. Icy fingers clutched at my heart, and I recognized them as my own, fisting my damp sweater, desperate to hide skin. My gaze skittered. Light bouncing off the wet sidewalk, grit and gravel, skewed into fluorescent colors. Slick, like an unfinished oil painting. Nausea. Turpentine. My head spun.
Breathe.
Where was I?
Breathe.
I slowed to a tiptoe, calves burning, and... blinked numbly. My throat tightened, tongue darting out, sandpaper dry, heart skip... skipskipskipping... into hiccuping gasps. No.
It couldn’t end in a narrow, dead-end alley on the edge of Ridgewood. Nowhere.
Breathe.
Footsteps. Echoing.
I whipped around too quickly. Fuck. My head jerked, and I stumbled, lightheaded from the whiplash, searching shadows for... something... to help. Always have an escape plan, he’d say.
“D, round the building,” a tin command, muffled by rain, lost in a darkness. “Fuck.” I lurched, a dizzy right, shouldering against the building, flattening, and sinking deeper into the shadows I’d scoured. “Quick.”
My palms, scraped and soaked, raking across damp brick.
“Esa cabrona.”
Something. Anything.
My hands shook.
Breathe.
In. Out.
Breathe.
Up, up, up, I glanced up. I stuttered, slowed, stopped on a sideways slope, glimpsing the cheap, trashy halo of fluorescent light, hanging over a dark doorway that probably led to a dive bar I could get lost in. My pulse spiked. Sometimes, the safest place was a crowd. Simple.
No. They’d follow me, and if they found me, it’d be chaos in the crossfire. I’d already been the reason for too many selfish deaths.
Backed against a brick wall in a dark, dead-end alley, and it was over. Every fucking decision I’d made that brought me to this moment. How had I let this happen?
It isn’t who you know, it’s who you burn.
I’d just… burned the wrong person.
Breathe.
Hot tears pricked behind my eyes as I swallowed the soft, shaky breath, shoulder blades digging into brick, spine flush, palms stinging, numb, feet shuffling inch by inch… further…
“D, ¿adónde fue?”
My gaze flicked magnetically, following his voice to his body. Grainy. Blurry. Silhouetted, like an old noir on TCM.
His broad shoulders, cut by ripples of rainfall. His features, hidden in hoods of darkness. Blurry. His motions, shapeshifting, closer, toward the mouth of the poorly lit dive bar, a spotlight surrounded by shadows.
Breathe.
Quietly, I slipped another inch, away from him, and under a dilapidated fire escape, sheathed deeper into the darkness. Droplets of rain, slower, rolling from my hairline to my lashes, as I looked up towards my only option. Up. How long would it take me to reach the roof if I ran now? How loud would it be? How many seconds would I have before I had t—
My foot shuffled, slid too deep.
Closer. Footsteps. Closer.
I fumbled to trace the contour of a corner, following, feeling for anything, and I slid into a deep, dark doorway.
Don’t breathe.
I hugged the brick, peering out to watch him take a slow, measured stride.
Don’t breathe.
My stomach lurched.
I held my breath as I shuffled again, shaky fingers searching for a doorknob by my hip.
Closer. Closer. Closer.
His footsteps pounded between my ears, echoing between each beat of rain against the fire escape.
Don’t breathe.
I tried to flatten against the cold door, but only felt warmth.
Don’t breathe.
My fingers caught fabric.
Don’t... breathe.
Breathing.
It was featherlight, soft, hazy, a hovering breath... behind me.
Suddenly, everything froze.
My heart stopped. My breath hitched.
“Shh...” a deep voice warned, dangerously close, so close I knew he could kill me right now. “Don’t breathe,” he whispered my own mantra in my ear, and I shivered silently. “Mmm. Bien.”
I’d backed into it.
Dread locked my limbs. Silent. Still. I could only watch and wait. His silhouette, against a brick backdrop. His knife, glinting in a grainy film of light. His tattooed knuckles. Half-veiled in shadows from the doorway of the dive bar, as if convinced I’d escaped into it.
My lips parted.
Hands clasped at my waist, hard enough to spike my heart rate higher. Watch. Wait. For the right angle of limited moonlight to tip him off. For him to turn his dark gaze and find me. For whoever was behind me to announce I was here. Caught.
Don’t breathe.
His chin jerked, and I shrank back as I found him looking in my direction, scouring the length of the brick wall, lined darker and darker the deeper it got. My chest constricted. Blindly, I jerked my head back and hit warmth, before steadying in an anxious panic. What was going on?
“Drew?” he called, swiveling around to look behind him. The fingers on my waist tightened painfully.
Don’t breathe.
His slow, slow sulk to the top of the alley, footsteps fading into the soft sounds of the storm. His distant voice, a conversation, fracturing into nothingness. It wasn’t until I couldn’t hear or see him that I felt my body catch up to my heart and my brain catch up to my basic instincts.
Breathe.
I gasped for breath instantly.
Hands, moving swiftly from my hips, covering my mouth, sweeping my wet hair into a fist and yanking me back into the doorway. “Shut up,” he hissed, barely audible between us. My throat ran dry, and my entire body froze over, layered in an icy indignation. I took an extra beat for caution, curling my fingers into fists, not speaking, not moving, not breathing, letting the raindrops cascade from my lips—
A gasp tore from my lips as I was wrenched back again. “Wh—“
Everything went tumbling back down my throat. His shadow flashed, a hand clapping over my lips. My back hit the cold metal of a door. Pinned. I couldn’t see past his lean shoulders. He stood tall and solid in front of me, against me, a shadow of salvation that I was trusting with my fucking life.
“What does he want from you?” he rasped, lifting his hand to grab my chin roughly. He nudged my thighs apart to slink closer, his chest pressing firmly against my body. Heat bled through soaked fabric. Warm.
“Who are you?” I bit back shakily.
“What does he want from you?”
He was so close to me. He was so warm. Fuck.
I raised my chin and shook his fingers away, desperate to find his gaze in the faint darkness. “What do you want from him?”
His grip wavered. “Nothing.”
Hesitating, I reached up to clutch at his shoulders. His fingers trailed down, twisting around a lock of my wet hair in an oddly natural gesture. Hm. He wasn’t going to kill me. He wanted the same thing. “Freedom?”
Breathe.
“You’re running from him, too.”
He unraveled his finger and tucked the sopping strand of hair behind my ear, nodding curtly. His nose brushed against mine. His hair, tangled, cold tufts, grazing my forehead. “There’s no way to escape him,” he told me softly, as if he understood everything now.
Breathe.
Hot breath caressed my cheek, wildly dangerous, yet somehow… safe.
“I’m not planning to escape him.” I left my words hanging, knowing that he’d understand, hoping that he’d join me.
