Chapter Text
The idea sounded easy at first. Run a single meter on day one, then double it the next. Two meters, four meters, eight. The routine took over my life. Every morning, I'd lace up my shoes with the reluctant energy of a man walking to his own execution. My legs were screaming, my lungs were begging for mercy, and yet there I was, doubling the distance again. All for what? A dumb idea, a promise to the viewers, and a growing sense that this was less of a challenge and more a slow death. The miles blurred together. I cursed myself, I cursed the challenge, I cursed James for living so far away.
"Christ, what am I even doing this for?" I muttered between ragged breaths.
'To see James.' My mind echoed.
At last, the coffee shop came into view, the agreed upon finish line. Relief flooded me, but my body had other plans. My vision blurred, the ground tilted beneath me, and yet I kept staggering forward until I crashed into James's arms. My heart pounded like a war drum, faster and faster, before everything went black.
"Will?"
The voice echoed in the dark.
"Will, answer me!"
When I came to, I was staring at a ceiling I didn't recognize. James hovered over me, worry written across his face.
"Where... where am I?" I croaked.
"You passed out in my arms, you bloody idiot," he said, trying to be stern but sounding more relieved than anything.
"Sorry," I muttered, eyes darting away.
I fumbled for my phone, only to be greeted by a mountain of notifications. 9 p.m. I'd been out for hours. Hours gone, just like that. My hands wouldn't stop shaking. At first, I thought it was just the aftermath of the run, but then my chest tightened like a vice and I couldn't catch a full breath. The walls seemed too close, the air too thin.
"Oh God, not now," I muttered, clutching at my shirt.
"Will?" James crouched beside the bed, his hand hovering like he didn't know whether to touch me or not. "Hey, you're alright. Breathe with me, okay?"
"I—I can't—" My voice cracked, panic rising like a tidal wave.
"Yes, you can." His tone shifted, calm but firm, like he'd done this before. He pressed his palm against mine. "Match me. In..." He took a slow breath, exaggerated so I could follow. "And out."
I tried. Failed. Tried again. My breaths were shallow, messy, but James didn't let go. His steady rhythm became the only thing I could cling to. After what felt like forever, my chest loosened. The panic didn't vanish, but it dulled enough for me to think straight again. I leaned back, sweaty and shaky, but alive.
"Bloody hell," I muttered. "That was fun."
James gave me the look—the one that said he was fighting the urge to throttle me and hug me at the same time. "You scared the life out of me."
"Sorry," I whispered again, and for once I meant it without a hint of sarcasm.
"You're not going anywhere tonight," he said firmly. "You'll stay here, and I'll make sure you don't collapse on some poor stranger's doorstep on the way home."
I wanted to argue, but the thought of moving even a few steps made me want to curl into a ball and disappear. So instead, I just nodded. James grabbed a blanket, draped it over me with a sigh, and muttered something about me being a complete idiot.