read this, skip this do wahtevs its just here

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"Wait what?" Nico asked as he looked up from his phone only to be shoved into the closet alongside Will with a startled shout.

He landed on his ass, back pressed up against the closet wall as his legs scrunched to make room.

Shocked eyes stared at grinning faces surrounding the closet door as it slammed shut, followed by the click of the lock and muffled giggles from outside as the room filled with darkness.

His back stayed firmly pressed against the wall, feet pressing up against the door in the cramped space as his eyes darted around the dark space. He had no idea where Will was, for all he knew Will wasn't even there - which was ridiculous given that he saw the blonde get shoved in with him.

All Nico could focus on was the feeling of the floor beneath him, the wall against his back, and the shut door pressed against his feet. His sides barely had enough space for him to move his arms without his elbows banging into walls or shelves.

It was dark, his surroundings looking like nothing but a vast cloud of emptiness engulfing his body. What little light peaked its way through the door crack was blocked by his body.

Hands pushed against the floor, trying to lift his body up but his limbs refused to respond. All he could think about was the feeling of the walls pressing against his skin and the darkness that surrounded him.

His feet dragged against the ground as he pressed his knees into his chest, leaving the toes of his shoes pressed against the doorframe.

He couldn't stand up. It was dark. His chest stung lightly: like a giant buzzing firefly was trapped within his ribcages, banging against his bones and lungs trying to escape. His face grew hot and his ears felt like they were filled with cotton, unaware of any sounds around him aside from the heavy drumming of his heart and the rapidly increasing breaths left his mouth, escaping in shaky gasps past his lips and into the dark room around him. He resisted the urge to swat at his chest to relieve the annoying stinging trapped within, knowing no amount of smacking would release the firefly stuck deep within his ribs.

His hands instead grasped desperately at the ground, clammy and desperate, as they searched for something - anything - to hold on to. They wrung their way around his legs, clinging onto the rough fabric of his jeans as his head fell into his knees. He harshly squeezed his eyes shut as his fingers rubbed soothing circles along the jean fabric in search of comfort. His eyes stung, a slow ache forming on his temple as he continued to squeeze his eyes, burying his head further into his knees.

The darkness of his closed eyes provided little comfort, the suffocating black turning into a deep maroon beneath his eyelids. Dark surrounding walls transformed into constricting clay ones - marked with cracks and scratches and shaky tic marks. His head buzzed, tongue growing heavy as his mouth tasted of metallic blood and remnants of sour pomegranates. He felt hazy again. Trapped. Desperate.

His cheeks felt wet as small tears escaped his eyes, from the pressure of his squeezing or the trapped feeling, he wasn't sure. No sounds escaped him aside from shallow breaths and shaky gasps.

He could hear a muffled voice but couldn't distinguish its words. The voice was getting louder, closer, more urgent; but its words sounded like they were speaking into foam, smushing together into a jumble of unidentifiable syllables.

There was banging.

More muffled words, further away.

Then quiet.

Light crept through the cracks of his folded frame, shifting the clay walls into jean cloth. His legs gave away at a loss of pressure as they skid forward slightly, but he kept a strong grip on his legs, refusing to lift his head or open his eyes.

There was stumbling around him; sounds of rushed, light banging, and hushed curses.

Someone was calling his name. At least he thinks it was his name, the words turning to static as they enter his ears.

They kept calling out, jumbles of words that sounded like questions. They were asking him questions, trying to get his attention.

The voice was soothing, they weren't yelling or frantic. A steady flow like a buoy floating in a stream - calm and welcoming with words of reassurance - while being steady and grounding, prepared to guide him to safety at the slightest hint of pressure.

"Nico, I need you to look at me. Can you look at me?"

Nico took a few more shaky breaths as he processed the words. He didn't want to look up. He didn't want to face cracked clay walls or pomegranate stains again, if he could help it he wanted to stay curled up with nothing but the rough view of his jeans pressed against his face.

Here was more shuffling and hushed whispers. Then the soft click of a door closing.

"Nico?" Will tried again, softer this time. "You don't have to if you don't want. I just want to help you. Will you let me?"

A few more moments passed before Nico slowly lifted his head, bleary eyes meeting Will. He looked like splotches of yellow, blue watercolor eyes looking tenderly at him with a soft, calming smile blooming on his face.

"Hey, how you doing?"

Nico let out a shaken laugh at the ridiculous question, it came out breathless - interjected by a shark gasp as his lungs fought for air he wasn't aware he was keeping from it.

Will's smile fell slightly at the sight, but he quickly recovered, scooting closer to Nico so the two were eye to eye - leaving enough room for the other to not feel overwhelmed.

"Is it ok if I touch you?" He asked softly, eyes raking the boy's curled frame - noting the shakes and slight jerks riddled his body.

Nico nodded softly, eyes dropping shut as he tried to focus on calming his breathing.

"Yea?" Will breathed as he tentatively raised his arm towards him, eyes flicking over the other's body for any sign of discomfort.

A gentle hand rested atop Nico's, fingers gently sliding under Nico's vice grip on his jeans, separating skin from cloth as he lifted Nico's hand off the rough fabric.

"Tell me if you want me to let go," Will instructed as he led Nico's hand to press against his chest, cupping it with his own.

"Try to match my breathing ok? It will help. Ready, take a deep breath in." He instructed, taking an exaggerated breath in, allowing his chest to rise against Nico's hand as the other tried to follow his instructions. "And out." He said with an exaggerated breath out.

Nico tried to match his pace, but his breaths cut off short as he struggled to keep a slow pace with his fuzzy mind.

"Good." Will smiled, despite Nico's apparent failure.

"Again."

Another deep breath in.

A small pause.

A deep breath out.

Nico's breaths were better, almost matching Wills's pace aside from a few staggering breaths that would escape ever so often.

Wills's grip on his hand was steady as he continued to talk him through breathing exercises. Had Nico not been so focused on calming his breaths and taking in his surroundings he would've been embarrassed by the situation. But for now, he sat content in front of Will, a hand pressed against the other's chest with closed focused eyes and red-tinted cheeks.

Nico moved to tell Will he was fine, but despite his mouth moving no words escaped his lips. He tried again, letting a soft ' fuh ' sounding breath escape before giving up - settling on shifting the hand placed on Will's chest, twisting it to grasp the hand that gently draped over his own. At the movement Will's exaggerated breathing stopped, moving his eyes over the other's face as he waited for another response.

Nico squeezed Wills's hand, scooting forward to rest his head atop Wills's shoulder hoping to convey that he was alright now.

Will seemed to get the message, resting his head atop Nicos and running his thumb in soothing circles along his knuckles.

"Better now" He whispered, not wanting to ruin the quiet moment.

He felt Nico's head bob up in a small nod and hummed in approval.

"You wanna talk about it?"

Small rustling of the other shaking his head no.

Will didn't say anything, sitting still as a resting post for the other as he continued to draw circles on his hand.

"Wanna talk about it later?"

Nico shrugged, exhaustion rolling over him. He turned his head into the other's neck and closed his eyes, deeming the conversation as over.

Will just let it happen, carefully moving his other hand to grab a nearby throw blanket and drape it over the other. Quickly, he grabbed his phone and carefully sent a message to the group chat before returning to sitting contently as he waited for the chaos hidden in the other room to return.

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I'm tired and can't tell if this is cringe it probably is
But that's ok
Cause you can't be a good writer if you don't start with cringe writing
Anyways if this is bad simply ignore it thxxxxx

**I am not claustrophobic so I'm sorry if this is bad representation I tried to do my research and read a lot of other's writing about similar situations and stuff so I tried

also idk if people are more panicky in these situations but usually for me when I have a panic attack im very like... idk soft. so thats how I wrote Nico. cause its what I know**