Martin holds his breath when John steps out, scarcely even able to hear the floorboards creaking over how loudly his heart is beating. He's almost frozen, but he forces himself to slip out after the other boy, refusing to let him do this alone. John keeps creeping forward, and Martin follows him on tip-toes, one hand gathering up his over-sized clothes and the other braced against the wall like he might topple over at any moment.
The flat seems empty, which isn't very comforting, but at least it gives them a little time to think. Martin's about to let out another held breath and suggest they try to find a phone when John suddenly challenges the silence, startling Martin so badly that he actually lets out a little shriek.
He immediately covers his mouth, flushing in embarrassment, and waits — but still there's nothing.
"M-maybe they went out," he offers, still looking around nervously like he doesn't trust his own guess. It looks like a perfectly normal flat, is the thing. Lots of books on the shelves, things for the cat. Everything tidy, but not too tidy.
"Has to be a phone somewhere," he says, though he doesn't see one — not on the walls or any of the end tables. "We could call our parents, or... or the police."
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The flat seems empty, which isn't very comforting, but at least it gives them a little time to think. Martin's about to let out another held breath and suggest they try to find a phone when John suddenly challenges the silence, startling Martin so badly that he actually lets out a little shriek.
He immediately covers his mouth, flushing in embarrassment, and waits — but still there's nothing.
"M-maybe they went out," he offers, still looking around nervously like he doesn't trust his own guess. It looks like a perfectly normal flat, is the thing. Lots of books on the shelves, things for the cat. Everything tidy, but not too tidy.
"Has to be a phone somewhere," he says, though he doesn't see one — not on the walls or any of the end tables. "We could call our parents, or... or the police."