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Panic

“I can fucking hear heartbeats from across the room”

Was that five or thirty minutes ago when he said that? I don't remember. Or was it thirty seconds ago? I don't know, but the words kept replaying like a broken record in my head.

It wouldn't stop. Which wasn't something I liked.

_“I can fucking hear heartbeats from across the room”_

_“I can fucking hear heartbeats from across the room”_

_“I can fucking hear heartbeats from across the room”_

Too loud. Too much. Too frequent.

As he opened the car door and gently helped me in, I clutched my bag tighter against my chest. The repetition of that sentence was driving me crazy. It felt too much, too persistent, invading my thoughts like an unwanted guest.

_“I can fucking hear heartbeats from across the room”_

Again.

I didn't know if he actually said that, because the way the sentence kept replaying it made me think I was just imagining it.

Maybe he just got tired of the event and decided to leave.

Maybe he noticed how bored I was
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