We walked into the elevator together ,our room keys clinging to our fragile fingers. Two broken hearts who just spit out their frustration in their safe place: yours in your diary ,mine into docs.
The lift arrived and we stepped in. Two heavy breaths across the steeled frame. I shut my eyes as i stepped in,hearing out the shut doors.I dared to open my squeezed eyes.
You pressed the buttons ,painted as the 14th floor. I looked at you as the lift centrifuged to take ages to reach the floor. I thought to myself ' until then my heart would explode'
You were rubbing your hand while I held onto the side support and looked at you. Sweaty they were ;your eyes ,looked down. Breath heavy and for a moment you felt dizzy. I knew then you were scared of lifts too. Or should i say of closed spaces,.Maybe that is why you never let me come near.You would speak up ten lines to me in a row and then quieten like the summer's breeze. I don't know how that comparison even suits you.I should call you the summer's loo for burning my heart with your scorching wind.
Nevermind, I looked at you and felt relieved that I'm not the only one who's suffering .My body swirled and my mind wobbled and the food that I just stashed into my mouth would ,take no time to come out on the ascending floor. I wished someone would hold my hand and I could bury my face inside them. But we were hopeless.
At the 12th floor,the lift stopped. I don't know what you felt. You gave me a look and heaved. I smiled back at you, thinking about your misery. As a lady stepped in the lift. I found it more suffocating. "One more floor to survive or I'm dead" you mumbled silently. I listened to it because I was a fool who used to eat up every word you said because I had to. I replied ' death doesn't come that easy' and you flashed a look at my Ill timed poetics .
While the lift began its journey again to transcendence (a virtue,it gained, because of its great creators who thought it to be the elevator's life goals.)I couldn't handle the centrifuge anymore and slid my hands into yours. Not giving a second thought. Making use of the moment.
And you clutched it tight. And so did I. And we both for a moment I think closed our eyes for the 14 th floor, with our separate room keys still clutched to our other hand.