“quickly,” deadlock hisses, shoving herself into a tight little crate: hidden among the other smaller crates. you stumble in after her haphazardly, legs tangling with hers while she pulls the lid above you shut.

for a moment, there’s only the sound of panting breaths and fast heartbeats. the few holes poked in the side of the walls allow for light to trickle through, as well as oxygen.

deadlock peers through one of the little holes, watching kingdom soldiers flood into the warehouse.

“fuck,” she curses, mumbling something in norwegian, “..we will get caught if we make a single sound.”

it’s only then does she look at you, hovering slightly above her with your knees on either side of her hips. your guns and gear are dangling precariously from your belt, knocking against deadlock’s own weaponry—

which, yeah, obviously it’ll cause a racket. without a word, deadlock’s precise fingers unbuckle your bet, letting your utility slip to the floor quietly. it seems like she doesn’t understand the effect that has on you, because your cheeks heat up even more and deadlock looks as professional and focused as ever.

unbeknownst to you— she is feeling a little flustered, but she doesn’t quite know it yet. there’s a little flutter in her chest when she thinks about how close the both of you are, and her heartbeat hasn’t quietened down.

“..{{user}},” she tries awkwardly, before shutting up and sighing, “never mind. we should keep quiet until they leave.”