Your POV

Stlap. Stlap. Stlap.

Each footfall sticks to the linoleum floor, making an echoing slapping noise as it reluctantly disconnects. I need to wash this fucking cocktail off my shoes as soon as I can.

I know I must look like a nightmare. My eyes puffy, dried mascara-stained tears lining my face, bruises forming on my knees from being crouched in the hard floor for so long. After we had left the theatre, Dan and I had been checked by paramedics, then interviewed. Dan wouldn't let me more than three feet away from me at all times, no matter how long he'd have to argue with someone. Phil seemed unable to talk, and every time he opened his mouth, tears would start running again, and he'd close it. After two hours of trying to hold myself together, we're finally able to leave. The second I get on the sidewalk, I crumble onto the curb and let myself fall apart. I sit crisscross on the sidewalk, my head in my hands, sobs escaping me uncontrollably.

Abruptly, a large crowd of  people equipped with colossal cameras and microphones come rushing toward us, causing me to let out a gasp of panic.

"Hello, we're part of the Daily Star, can you tell us what happened tonight?" An intense looking lady asks me, shoving her microphone in my face. However, unable to comprehend what's happening, I only start sobbing harder, causing the reporter's brows to knit together in impatience. Realizing quickly she won't be able to get much information out of me, she turns to Dan.

"How about you, sir? Can you tell us what happened tonight?" She then pushes the microphone inches from Dan's face, which turns out to be a very, very big mistake.

"Are you fucking crazy?" He shouts into the microphone. "Can you not tell that we are not in the right place mentally to talk about this, nor will we ever be, probably?" He takes a second to catch his breath, then continues. "She's sobbing on the sidewalk. We were just part of a shooting less than three hours ago, and you think it's okay to get in our faces and question us about it? How the bloody hell can you even live with yourself?" He concludes. She raises her eyebrows, then turns to the camera.

"As you can see, many of the witnesses are still in utter distress. We can head inside, and see if there's anyone inside who can give us, er, more information." Dan rolls his eyes in utter discust as the newscaster and the camera crew head into the theatre.

"What the hell is wrong with people?" He says to no one in particular.

"Can we just head home?" I croak, and realize my vocal chords are numb, but I don't really know what from. Dan looks down at me, anger still etched in his face. But as he locks eyes with me, his expression softens, and he nods, offering his hand to help me up. I grab his hand, and lift myself to my feet. We walk silently to the subway, and head home, a bleak aura emitting from the three of us. The entire trek home is a complete blur, most likely because my mind has officially gone into numb mode.

We walk up the narrow steps to our apartment. As we get to the doors, I realize there's no way I'm going to be able to sleep in my apartment alone. Luckily, Dan seems to have read my mind.

"You can stay in our apartment," he suggests. "I mean, if you want," he adds quickly. I nod in appreciation.

"I'm just gonna grab some things from my place, then I'll be right over," I say, fumbling for my keys. I walk into my apartment, and immediately feel a creepy vibe. I rush to my room and change into leggings and an oversized crewneck sweater. I look at myself in the mirror, and instantly cringe. As I expected, my mascara has completely escaped my eyelashes and has dripped down my swollen face. I head to the bathroom and hastily wipe my face clean with a makeup wipe, run a brush through my hair, and throw it up into a messy bun.

I grab my phone charger, and a blanket and pillow. I turn off my lights, happy to leave my apartment, as I plan on being alone for the least amount of time possible for at least a few days. I close my door behind me, and head into Dan and Phil's apartment. I walk to the lounge, and see Dan setting up a makeshift bed onto the couch. It turns out I didn't need to bring my own blanket and pillow, seeing as he was planning on supplying me with two of each. It takes him a minute to realize I've entered, and he nearly jumps as he sees me standing in the archway. I smile graciously at him, and plug in my charger on the wall by the side table next to the couch.

"Well, I'll be in my room," he explains awkwardly. "So, if you need anything..." he trails off, smiling nervously.

"Thank you," I reply, breaking the awkward silence. He gives a sad smile in response, then, obviously not knowing what else to say, shoulders past me silently and heads to his own room.

I throw my own pillow and blanket on the floor next to the couch, and wrap myself into a cocoon with the blankets he's supplied. Maybe because of the warmth surrounding me, or because I finally feel safe now, or because the last few hours have been excruciatingly exhausting, I'm out like a light in only minutes.

Pop. Pop.

Screams echo off the walls, and I'm about to tell whomever it is to shut up, when I realize they're coming from me.

"No! No!"

Crimson blood is forming at my feet, multiplying by the the second. The smell of death fills my nostrils, but I'm not ready to accept it. Not yet. This can't be happening.

"Wake up! Wake up!" I scream, shaking his limp body, blood rushing into my hands, clumping under my nails.

"You're okay. Breath, just breath. Please, come back to me. Don't do this to me, please."

"Stop! Stop!"

"Stop! Stop!" I writhe around, panicked, trying to escape the cocoon that started as a comfort, but has now become a prison.

"Wake up! Wake up! You were dreaming, you're safe now!" A soothing voice coons into my ear.

"Stop! I can't- stop!" I continue to scream, unable to stop myself. My eyes are open, but I still can't focus on anything.

"Shh- No, no, don't panic, love. You're safe now."

I continue to whimper and writhe, until I finally exhaust myself and sag into the couch. My eyes begin to focus, and I cautiously sit up, the cocoon of blankets falling off me.

"It's okay, you're going to be okay, you're safe now," I finally assign the voice to a person, and realize it's Dan who's crouched next to me once again. Shit.

"I... I don't know... please..." I mumble rubbish, as if the clock has turned back years and I've become a three year old once again.

"Shh, just breathe, just breathe okay?" He coos into my ear, and when I see his hand lying on the edge of the couch, I instinctively grab hold of it and squeeze it tightly in an effort to calm myself down.

Once I get my breathing under control, I start whispering again. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." I repeat over and over again.

"You have nothing to be sorry about," he replies. "You'll be alright, no one can hurt you now."

"This can't be happening," I suddenly cry, and I realize painfully I'm really going to lose it. "I feel like I'm losing my goddamn mind." My heartbeat picks up speed, and panic starts rising in my chest. "I can't... I can't do this again..." I start hyperventilating, and I'm squeezing Dan's hand so hard I'll probably leave marks for days.

"(Y/n), listen to me," he whispers in a calming yet assertive tone. "Everything is going to be okay. I'm not going to leave you, you don't have to go through this alone." I look into his chocolate eyes, and realize we're close enough together for me to count his eyelashes. For some reason, being this close to him makes me feel more relaxed, instead of sending my heart into an episode like it usually would.

He's the first to look away, turning his eyes toward the ground and clearing his throat. "Do you need anything? Tea? Water?"

I open my mouth, but realize I'm unable to speak, so I only nod my head. He seems to understand what I mean, and gets up and heads to the kitchen. The second he leaves my side, my heartbeat picks up speed again, and I start wringing my hands together, trying to calm myself down. Luckily, before my anxiety can get more out of control, Dan comes back, holding one glass of ice water and one cup of warm tea, setting them down on the coffee table. I cautiously sit up, and I feel nauseous for just a second, but luckily, it passed. I grab the warm tea, and take a long dreg. The tea slithers down my spine and into my stomach, filling me with warmth. Dan sits next to me on the couch silently. I pull my knees to my chest and place my head on his heart, curling up next to him. He stiffens up for just a second, then wraps his arm around me. We sit, snuggled next to each other for hours. We only sit in silence, but when we're together, that's all we need.

Platonically, of course.

That's what I keep telling myself as I lie on the couch the next morning, tangled in blankets, and alone, as Dan must've gone back to bed once I'd fallen asleep. Or at least that's what I assume, until I hear someone's steady breathing, and turn to see Dan asleep on the loveseat across from me.

Why do I keep thinking there's something more to us in these situations? It's not like I have an issue when snuggling with girlfriends. I can be close to a guy without it being romantic, right?

Right?

Dan's POV

"Stop! Stop!"

(Y/n)'s horrid screams cause my eyelids to dart open, and I'm up and out of my bed in a matter of seconds. I stumble and trip over my feet in the hall, but stand back up and continue rushing to the lounge as if I'm running to save my life. (Y/n) is writhing on the couch, entangled in the blankets like pythons wrapping around her. Panicked, I try my best to get her out of the restraints without her flailing body injuring me.

"Wake up! Wake up! You were dreaming, you're safe now!" I whisper-shout, trying to bring her back to her senses without scaring her even more. Her eyes open in shock, but she might as well be blind, as it looks like she can't focus on anything at the moment.

"Stop! I can't - stop!" She continues to scream uncontrollably, and I think she's still half asleep.

"Shh- No, no, don't panic, love. You're safe now," I breathe, fear lacing itself around my every atom, not knowing what else to do to help (Y/n). Thankfully, however, she seems to be slowly exhausting herself, until she finally slumps on the couch, panting rapidly.

"It's okay, you're going to be okay, you're safe now," I whisper, too afraid to even move.

"I... I don't know... please..." she mumbles, blinking until her eyes begin to focus, her entire body trembling to the point that even the couch is shaking beneath her.

"Shh, just breath. Just breath, okay?" I speak softly. She sits up, the blankets falling more limply around her. She takes notice of my hand clenching the edge of the couch, and takes it into her own, squeezing tightly enough to leave her fingerprints engraved in my skin.

Her breathing starts to steady, and she continues to mumble under her breath. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry..."

"You have nothing to be sorry about," I reply in a low voice. "You'll be alright, no one can hurt you now."

Silent tears roll down her cheeks, causing my own eyes to heat up. "This can't be happening," she cries. "I feel like I'm losing my goddamn mind." Her breathing starts to speed up, and her grasp on my hand tightens. "I can't... I can't do this again..." Her breathing becomes fast and heavy, and I rack my brain for something, anything, to comfort her.

"(Y/n), listen to me," I whisper to her. "Everything is going to be okay. I'm not going to leave you. You don't have to go through this alone." She turns her head and looks into my eyes. I realize I'm close enough to count the constellation of freckles lining her nose, and I'm mesmerized by the depth of her eyes. My pulse starts to steadily increase, and I look away before (Y/n) has the chance to notice.

I clear my throat awkwardly. "Do you need anything? Tea? Water?" She opens her mouth, but we both realize at the same time she's unable to talk, and she only nods her head in reply. I get up and head to the kitchen, make a quick cup of tea, and fill a glass with ice water. I walk cautiously into the lounge with both glasses in my hands, and place them carefully down on the coffee table in front of (Y/n). She gives me a thankful smile, and grabs the tea. I sit next to her on the couch, and to my surprise, she curls into a ball and places her head on my chest. I feel myself instinctively stiffen up for a second, but then I relax and wrap my arm around her. I can still feel her heaving breaths against my still body. She finishes her tea and places it on the coffee table, then snuggles up to me again. We sit in silence, but somehow, it's not awkward.

Eventually, her breaths even out and I can hear her give tiny snores into my side. I carefully lay her back down on her pillow without waking her. I'm about to head back to my room, but then I realize I can't leave her in here by herself. I quickly rush to my room and grab a pillow and blanket, then head back to the lounge. I set up a makeshift bed on the loveseat, and lie down, not a single noise able to be heard except her soft breathing.

It takes awhile for me to fall asleep, with one thought bouncing around my mind, no matter how hard I try to push it out.

I'm in way too deep.

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Hey guys, thanks so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. If you did, please remember to vote, comment, share and follow. Love you and see you in the next chapter! 💜