I attempt to silence the noise echoing in my mind and tune out the sensation of the rippling crowd that we’re currently drowning in.
Because what is happening is this: Elliot’s arms are around me. He’s currently watching me like I am something precious and breakable. I know that we have only known each other for three days, but the part of me that can no longer be reasoned with wants him. All of him.
And when I meet his gaze, there is one thing that I know to be absolutely true: I’m safe.
So without any further consideration – even though it feels completely unfamiliar and alien to me – my hands slide into his hair. And I kiss him.
The sensation is enough to blur my awareness of everything around us, his lips just as soft and tender as I remember. But it seems I’ve surprised him, as when he kisses me back, his movements are tentative. Hesitant. In a way that makes me wonder if I’ve read this all wrong; maybe this was all in my head and he views me as a friend. Maybe there’s another Nora Hartley out there that someone desires enough to write on a post-it.
I draw back and fill my lungs with a nervous inhale, checking his face for signs of wrongdoing. He stares at me as if I am an apparition, and my concern doubles.
‘Um,’ I say, trying not to stare at him but unable to look away. ‘Uh, I’m sorry, I–’
His lips are on mine in an instant. And this time I’m the shocked one as his arms wrap tightly around my waist, pulling me to him.
If I weren’t busy kissing him, I’d punch the air.
My frantic breathing turns into a sigh as his lips move over mine, and I have to stop myself smiling into his mouth. The kiss is slow and patient, his movements deliberate in way that make the sharp edges in my mind softer, quieter.
Despite the fact I am standing in this horrific, immeasurable crowd – a clear-cut vision of my nightmares – everything about this moment is perfect.
Of course, until the girl standing behind us taps me lightly on the shoulder.
‘Sorry to interrupt,’ she says, not sounding very sorry. ‘But I’ve been waiting to see this band live for years and I can’t see a thing. Could you please move?’
This is a very reasonable request. The way Elliot and I tower over her means we are undeniably blocking her view, and I can’t help but think she’s being much nicer than I would have been if this had happened to me during Queen Ego.
‘Sorry, of course,’ I say with an eager nod.
Elliot’s frame curves protectively around me.
‘Let’s get you out of here,’ he murmurs into my ear.
I cast him a grateful smile when his fingers intertwine with mine. ‘Do you want to lead or shall I?’ he asks.
‘You, please,’ I say, my voice coming out reedy.
He nods dutifully and starts leading me out of the crowd, step by careful step.
Gettingout of the crowd takes several years. It’s a punishing and unrelenting test of my body. Even with Elliot so close, I can’t get the kind of deep breath I crave. As the crowd wecreep through cheers with elation, the ground buckles and bows beneath my feet. But I plough on.
When we finally meet the edge of the crowd, I tip my head to the sky and take a greedy inhale, letting my body expand as I do so. After a moment, when my body feels more like my own, I turn to Elliot to thank him.
But I can only assume he has noticed my flushed cheeks and heaving breaths, because his immediate instinct is to sweep me into a firm embrace. His strong frame creates a sanctuary for my nervous system, which is still frazzled and frantically searching for solid ground. I melt into his arms, basking in the sensation.
‘You okay?’ he asks, his arms around me unyielding.
I laugh nervously in response. When he releases me from his embrace, he cups my face in his hands, his thumbs grazing my cheekbones.
‘Why would you do that?’ he asks softly, looking utterly bewildered. ‘I said I was coming for you.’
‘I know,’ I reply, my voice still trembling. ‘I just couldn’t stay still.’
A laugh falls out of him, and it doesn’t sound like it’s just me who is shaken up.
‘Thank you,’ I say, still in awe that he’s here. ‘For getting me out of there unscathed.’
‘You did that,’ he tells me, nodding back at what we just survived. ‘Not me.’
