Anna raced continuously through the hallway. She pushed the restroom door open, slamming it hard against the wall.
Even with the thunderous sound it produced, she didn't flinch, nor did she slow down.
Her steps remained uneven, and she kept running without stopping.
Her vision blurred from the pressure surrounding the building, with the noise from the restaurant still echoing faintly in her ears.
She moved fast through the restroom, not even looking at the sink or the reflection of her despair. She just moved straight for the first empty stall she found.
Her hands reached for the lock, sliding it in place with no hesitation. Her eyes were still tearful, and for a few seconds... nothing happened. She just stood still, staring straight at the door.
Then...
Her legs gave out.
She dropped straight onto the toilet seat, her hands gripping the edge as her head fell forward. She let out a short breath of relief.
Everything remained silent for a while, then she finally broke. Her voice tore through the silence almost instantly.
Tears flowed down her face freely, and her shoulders trembled as painful memories corroded her heart. It was as though the pain she had buried all these years clawed its way to the surface.
The humiliation she thought she had forgotten. The tears from her parents' death that seemed to have dried out all came crawling back.
Her fingers tightened into her clothes in an attempt to control herself by force, but it had no effect.
Nothing did.
Her chest ached, and her throat burned. Her breath became irregular just from the sobbing alone.
"...Why! Why! Why!…" she whispered, her voice breaking under its own weight.
Her hand moved blindly toward her bag, without even any thought. She just seemed to be searching, looking for something, anything, that could make it better. Something that could relieve the bitterness aching in her heart.
Her fingers brushed against glass. She paused, then pulled it out.
A small bottle of vodka.
She smiled.
Something she had taken from a friend earlier while messing around had now become something she clung to for comfort.
Her fingers reached for the lid for a moment, then without thinking, she twisted it open and drank.
No form of restraint or hesitation was present. She just kept pouring the liquid down her throat. Even though it was harsh, with an unforgivable sting, she didn't stop. She just kept gulping it down.
Even though it made her taste buds scream in disgust, and despite the fact that it wasn't of any help, she didn't stop.
For a brief moment, the pain faded as she kept drinking, and that small moment of relief was addictive to her.
"Anna?!"
The voice cut through the restroom. It was sharp and carried every form of urgency.
The door opened once more, but this time less forcefully. Footsteps echoed against the tiled floor.
"Anna!"
His voice was loud as his eyes scanned the room quickly. His breath was uneven as his eyes moved from one stall to the other.
No one responded. Even though his voice was familiar, the voice of Ben, Anna said nothing.
Then a faint sound of subtle tears and broken breathing from one of the stalls struck his ears.
He immediately moved, standing directly in front of the door.
"...Anna?" he called again, quieter this time.
He carefully stepped closer, with hesitation, as if afraid of what might be happening on the other side.
"I know you're in there."
Still no response, just silence and the faint sounds of tears behind the door.
He lifted his hand, then withdrew it with hesitation.
"...Hey," he said, his voice remaining lower and calmer.
"I'm not going to open it."
"You don't have to say anything."
He exhaled slowly, then lowered himself, sitting on the cold floor with his back resting against the stall door.
"I'll just stay here."
The silence remained as seconds passed, then minutes, but he didn't leave. He just sat there with his back against the door, waiting for her.
"...You don't have to listen to them," he continued after a while, his voice steady and grounding.
"They don't know anything about you."
Anna still didn't respond, but this time her breathing began to slow down and her trembling hands began calming down.
"You've done more than any of them ever will, so don't let them get to you."
"You're stronger than this," he added quietly. "You know that, right?"
Another pause.
"I mean it."
Still no reply.
****
Click.
The sound of the lock was soft, but loud enough for his ears to hear.
He immediately straightened up, pushing himself off the floor just as the stall door opened slightly, with Anna standing there.
For a moment, neither of them moved. They just kept looking at each other without moving.
Then... Anna lunged at him, closing the distance before he could even react. Her hands wrapped around him tightly, with tears pouring out of her eyes.
Her hands remained tight around him as though she was afraid he might disappear if she let go.
Her face buried itself in his chest, her grip tightening as her body trembled against his and her sobs rubbed all over his shirt.
Ben stood still, frozen and surprised. His expression softened from her warmth.
Slowly, with care, he lifted his arms and calmly wrapped them around her.
"I've got you," he murmured quietly as her fingers clenched his shirt tightly.
The faint scent of alcohol reached him, but he didn't say a word, nor did he question her. He just stood there, pulling her closer.
One hand rested gently against the back of her head, keeping her from falling apart.
Minutes passed, and the warmth of his touch was all she could live for. Neither of them spoke, but him just being there was enough to dry her tears.
Then she looked up at him, her eyes still wet and her expression still fragile. Her grip loosened a little, but she didn't step away.
He looked down at her as well, both of them staring deeply into each other's eyes. For a brief moment, it felt like all the noise in his head disappeared.
All he could think of now was her, just her.
His hand moved slightly, then he leaned his head down, pressing a soft kiss against her forehead with his arm tightly around her.
"You're okay," he said quietly.
"You're fine."
Her eyes trembled slightly at his words, full of uncertainty, but she stayed close.
Their gazes locked, neither of them looking away.
For a moment, everything stilled. Ben felt it then, the closeness, the way her breath brushed softly against his skin. She smelled like a mixture of vodka and lavender, harsh and sweet all at once, and it made his chest constrict.
The faint warmth of her body pressed against his. The way her fingers still lingered on his shirt as if she needed him. His eyes dropped for a second to her lips, slightly parted, soft, and a little swollen.
He figured she must have bitten them while trying to muffle her cries. He swallowed hard, and a quiet breath slipped through his nose as his grip around her waist tightened just a little, almost unconsciously, before he caught himself.
No, he couldn't be thinking straight right now. He couldn't do this, not when she was like this.
His jaw tensed faintly, and he forced his gaze away for a moment, trying to steady himself, but when he looked back at her, she was already looking at him, closer now, too close. His heart picked up.
"Anna…" he started softly, almost like a warning, maybe to her, or maybe to himself.
He didn't move forward, he didn't lean in, but everything about him said he wanted her.
Then, she closed the distance. Her lips met his. Soft, uncertain, but real.
Ben froze in disbelief. For a second, his mind was caught between stopping and giving in.
His mind continuously screamed at him to stop, but his body had already answered without him. One hand gently steadied her at the waist as he kissed her back, careful and light, matching her exactly.
And then it was over. Her arms slipped from around his neck. Her head tipped forward, heavy against his chest, and she let out a tiny, sleepy sigh as her grip loosened.
"Anna?" he whispered, concern threading through his voice.
She didn't answer.
Her body sagged fully into him, her eyes already closed, the alcohol finally pulling her under. She'd passed out right there in his arms, breathing slow and even against his shirt.
"...Anna?" But this time, the voice wasn't his. Familiar, but coming from outside the women's bathroom.
"Anna, are you in there?" it called again. The door handle rattled softly.
Ben's stomach sank. He recognized the voice immediately.
He looked down at her sleeping form, then back at the door, frozen.
For a moment, neither the room nor time seemed real.
Both of them froze.