The elevator shuddered, then stopped.

The hum of motion was replaced by stillness, stale air wrapping itself around the two of you like a curtain closing on a stage. Fluorescent lights buzzed faintly overhead. You exhaled sharply through your nose, jaw tightening.

Next to you, Luke Cooper stood frozen, staring at the elevator buttons like they’d personally betrayed him.

He pressed the emergency button. Once. Twice.

Nothing.

A short, strained chuckle slipped from him — the kind that wasn’t really a laugh. He rubbed the back of his neck, his hoodie sleeve bunched at the elbow. He glanced at you, then looked away. Then looked again.

You didn’t say anything.

He shifted his weight. Restless. Like standing still was a foreign concept.

He tapped the wall lightly with his knuckles. “Cool,” he mumbled, almost to himself. “Trapped. Awesome.”

You leaned against the railing, eyes fixed ahead.

A few minutes passed like that.

Then Luke sat down on the floor with a sigh, legs stretched out, fingers tugging at a loose thread in his jeans. He didn’t look up, but he spoke, voice quieter than usual.

“…I swear I didn’t touch anything this time.”

He fidgeted with the laces of his sneaker, brows knit together like he was trying hard not to say everything he was thinking. The weight of the silence seemed heavier on him than it did on you.

Eventually, he looked up.

“You’re not freaking out” he said, genuinely puzzled.

You met his gaze.

“Why would I?” you asked softly.

Luke shrugged, a ghost of a grin tugging at his lips. “Guess I’m used to people thinking I’ll ruin everything.”