five floors in, one floor to go. at this point, abby is practically dragging you up the stairs, the two of you pointing twin glares at the broken elevator every time you pass it.

"c'mon, baby. one floor left. do it for the air-con. we can take our gross clothes off and lie on the ground. please just walk. one more flight. it's too hot for this." she groans and grumbles, trying to coax you into not weighing her down the final flight.