"We're gonna die."
Mark and Courtney had been trapped in the elevator for an hour.
"That makes me feel loads better!" Courtney scowled.
"We're gonna die. I'm never gonna see my baby sister, ever."
"Don't say that."
"We're running out of oxygen, Courtney. We're gonna die."
"Don't talk like that."
"I haven't even really lived, and I'm gonna die. How's that fair?"
"We're acolytes, Mark, we've lived."
"No, I mean, gah! There are things I haven't done! Haven't said! How can it end here? In an elevator of all places!"
"We're not gonna die! Stop saying that!"
Mark held his knees.
"Courtney, what if we are?"
This though Courtney off. What was she supposed to say?
"Well, then what? We're in an elevator!"
"This."
Mark crawled over to her. Mark put his hand on her cheek. He was close. So close that Courtney could feel his breathe against her face. After the longest second of her life, Mark pressed him lips against hers.