He sat straight up, panting and clawing the bed covers as he rested himself against the backboard of his bed. His mind was just a continuous swarm of worries with no coherent thoughts passing through. She didn't cross his mind, she would never leave it. Questions swamped his brain like floods in monsoon season. How could he have let this happen? Where was she? What was A going to do to them? Was she even still-
No. He couldn't think like that. Hanna was still alive, Hanna was a fighter. After everything, she would always live to fight another day. Always.
Pearls of sweat trickled down his forehead as he tried to control his breathing. All that escaped his lips were short, shallow breaths. He had to put on his brain face, push all bad thoughts from his mind and keep repeating to himself that Hanna would be okay. They would be okay. One way or another, Hanna would be back before he knew it and then, he'd be able to sleep properly again.
Slumber just came in stops and starts. Whenever he closed his eyes, he saw her smile and beautiful face, heard how she would laugh at something he had said or when something funny had happened that day. He had to stay strong, she would want him to. For him, for Hanna's mom and for her. Tearing himself apart would only making him hurt more. In fact, it would probably destroy him.
Anxiety, fear, anger, sadness - He'd become well acquainted with all of those emotions. Now, as he placed his bare feet on the floor, shivers up his spine and a brewing panic attack. He made his way to the bathroom where he splashed his face with cool water. His eyes were puffy and purple bags weighed down beneath. One had either side of the basin, he took a few deep breaths. God, he was a mess; Brown hair sticking upwards in all directions, tired eyes, damp cheeks, trying to hold onto the last pieces of evidence that Hanna had been there.
He grabbed his phone from his bedside table, dialling the number that had been saved on his speed dial since the day that they met. He knew she wouldn't pick up. How could she? She didn't have her phone. He just wanted to hear her voice again.
"Hey, it's Hanna" The recorded voice chirped. He could hear her smiling as she recorded the message "I'm kinda busy right now but leave a message and I'll get back to you!"
The tone sounded and he didn't speak. Upon hanging up, his breathing got sharper and hot tears rolled down his face again as he felt every crack in his heart split open. He refused to believe she was gone. She was still alive, still Hanna. He covered his eyes with his hands to stop the crying. He couldn't help but think about her. She was probably somewhere out there thinking of her mom, her home, him.
And somewhere out there, she was.