They mirrored one another; not on purpose, of course. Standing opposite each other, with their arms folded over their chests, gazes glued either to the floor or the ceiling. The meeting had been called, and it was Enrico's turn to choose their location. Rather than a museum or café, he had chosen a conference room in a hotel at the edge of Italy's borders. Integra was garbed in one of her custom tailored suits, and he in his bishop's attire. With the absence of elevator music came the churning gears and grinding, hissing mechanisms of the metal transporter. Unfortunately the machine was incredibly slow; and each little "ding" that sounded for a floor, was agonizingly delayed. Fifteen floors and they were only on the fifth. It would be the tenth floor that they would find the conference room; vacant for their use alone.
With a lurch and several unpleasant clanking and grinding noises, the elevator came to an abrupt halt. The next noise it made wasn't familiar but most definitely couldn't be mistaken. It had shut down; broken in a sense of course. This left the young knight and bishop stranded within its walls until either help arrived, or the machine got itself going once again. "Bloody hell!" the female exclaimed, as she stumbled forward. Maxwell of course had braced himself along the wall, hands holding onto the small rail provided. As Integra fixed her spectacles, the buttons began dimming. "The power can't possibly go out, can it?" He tossed her a heated glare and scoffed. "How am I supposed to know? I didn't plan for us to be trapped in here." He started for the doors, attempting to pry them open. Thankfully the main lights overhead were still functioning; but that didn't exactly make matters any more bearable.
After twenty minutes, the two had given up their feeble attempts at pushing buttons, yelling for help, and trying to open the doors despite their better judgment and knowledge. A faint buzzing was heard and then the lights went out, enveloping them in darkness. For a few moments, there was nothing but silence and perhaps a quick string of profanities from the heir's lips. Enrico verbally made it clear he didn't appreciate the vulgarity of her vocabulary; to which Integra snapped back at. The male quieted almost immediately and left the female alone. To do so, he had to bite his lip and huff. In the silence, he heard fabric whispering as it was rustled; and he could vaguely make out the knight's form as she drew her knees to her chest. As rivals, the two had always spat fire at one another. Getting along wasn't easy, and while they usually drew a neutral line for their little meet-ups, Enrico couldn't help but feel a little at fault for their situation.
It wasn't just that though. While he wouldn't admit it, there were other feelings he had. Feelings that were likely to be unrequited. "Don't tell me you're afraid of the dark," the bishop snarked. Something of a hiss was given in return and Integra glared at him through the darkness. Despite their being young adults at this point in time, she still could very vividly recall the night her father had died. Richard, her own uncle had hunted her down to kill her – all for the sake of claiming Hellsing for his own. Now, in their current situation, Integra felt her heart accelerate and her breathing become rushed; forced even. She was back in the ventilation system, attempting to escape the clutches of her flesh and blood and the men he had with him. She felt trapped; cornered like some sort of hopeless animal. Having been trapped in her thoughts, the heir hadn't taken notice to Enrico's advance. An arm had looped behind and around her, drawing her close to the male's side. Though he wouldn't look at her, Integra knew it wasn't done to mock her. Hesitating a good moment or two, the blonde leaned into him and relaxed; but only slightly. Silence and darkness alike enveloped them. As time wore on, she could hear their heartbeats starting to match. Being closer to him had eased her anxiety and slowed her heart rate. A soft noise startled her and she jerked away. Doing so caused the bishop to jostle a bit and he slumped onto her shoulder; resulting in Integra letting out a quick but quiet sound of surprise.
Groaning quietly, the young knight stiffened and didn't bother to push him off. His head was on her shoulder, mouth open slightly as soft snores escaped them. The soft fragrance of lavender and something more tickled the edge of her nose; and she knew it was coming from him. It must have been the shampoo he used or something. It made the girl smile with amusement. Finally, she noticed that a spot on her shoulder had started to feel damp; and while she mindlessly peeled that part of her shirt from her skin, it only stuck again. Frowning, the blonde looked to Maxwell and found that he had drooled quite a bit. At the same moment she started to wake the male, the elevator gave a small lurch and some of the lights started back up.
Waking with a start, Maxwell swatted at Integra's hands and pulled himself to his feet. Taking a moment to straighten his attire, he gave the elevator a quick look-over and sighed. Integra had risen and started to fix herself as well. Noticing the spot on her shoulder and the fact that she was smirking, Enrico had the decency to look embarrassed. His cheeks flushed a bit and he coughed into a gloved hand. "My apologies, Sir Integra."
They were moving again and the metal doors soon opened as they reached a landing. There were several men waiting from both organizations, asking the pair if they were alright. Once everything was settled and the two were checked – the meeting began as planned.