Liam was trapped. He knew that. But he couldn't bring himself to mind. Across from him, Sarah, the new intern, was biting her lip, her brow furrowed in concentration as she tried her phone one last time. He found himself cataloging every detail of her face; the way her dark hair framed her cheekbones, the slight tremor in her hands.
The stale air in the lift felt suddenly perfumed, charged. He took a deep breath, fighting the urge to lean closer, to brush a stray strand of hair from her face. He cleared his throat. "Don't worry," he said, his voice sounding rougher than usual. "They'll get us out."
Each passing minute stretched into an eternity, filled with the soft sounds of Sarah's breathing and the gentle clinking of her bracelet. He watched as she took a deep breath, and his own breath hitched in his throat. He started thinking about her, and how he had noticed her every single day since she had started working there. He started to wonder about her life outside of the office.
He found himself subtly mimicking her posture, unconsciously mirroring her expressions. When she looked up and caught his eye, he quickly looked away, a blush creeping up his neck. The three hours passed in a flurry of unspoken longing and silent appreciation.