Concern was growing between several people.  Regardless of what they tried, I would not come to my senses.  I stayed up on the platform, hidden away from everyone.  I had not spoken a single word for three days and I suspect they were getting frustrated with having to keep me sanitary.
Having tried everything that they could think of, which did involve being slapped a few times, Amelia, Julie and Phoebe acted upon a last resort.
For the following to make sense, I shall give a little context.
I do not believe that I have ever truly fallen in love.
I have had the occasional crush, but due to my social anxiety and lack of interest from the other party, I ignored such feelings.  I grew so uncomfortable and got so confused over interacting with anyone, that it got to the point where, if I even started to suspect that I might like a person, I would ignore the feeling, I would block it out.
The closest that I have ever come to falling for someone, dates back to when I was in college and I got the most unbearably overwhelming crush on one of my closest friends, Phillip Isaacs.  Being so young and having attended an all girls school, I was completely unfamiliar with the whole boy/girl relationship.  What I was sure of was that, what he thought of as friendship, manifested in my poor adolescent brain as romantic affection, and I fell hard. 
I never told him and was fairly certain that he never figured it out. 
We lost touch after college.  I am no good at keeping up with people under normal circumstances, let alone with my feelings being what they were.  If I ever met him by chance, my mind would go blank and my stomach became full with a maelstrom of butterflies.  Upon reflection, I am fairly certain, where I was so blind-sighted by his appearance at one time, that I practically shouted, “oh my god!” in his face.  I think I managed to play it off, but words cannot express how awkward I could get.
Ever since knowing him, I have never felt as strongly for anyone else.  I would get the occasional crush, but nothing as intense as the fluttering that I spent the following ten years trying to forget.
Only a small handful of people knew how I felt, the same women who were trying to snap me back into reality.
He had been spending his time with a few other people that had been on the same college course as us.  On the evening of the third day, Phoebe, Amelia and Julie approached him, took him to one side and explained what had been going on with me. 
“We've tried everything that we can think of,” said Phoebe, “she just won’t react to anyone.  We love her, but she needs to get a grip.  We think she can be snapped out of it, but it gonna take more than just us.”
“She will probably murder us for telling you what we’re about to,” said Julie, “but we have no other options at the moment.  We think that she might react if it’s you.” 
I have known Julie since year seven of secondary school, however she took the same college course as me after our GCSEs and so also knew Phillip, as well as how I felt about him, having been my confidant during those days.
Phillip appeared skeptical, “why me?”
The others exchanged glances and nodded.
Phoebe spoke, “because what she feels for you is the closest she’s ever been to being in love.”
He looked at each of them in quick succession, “in love, with me?  No, no, that's…” he took a deep breath, “I mean, I’m the one who was in love with her…”
The four of them exchanged exaggerated sighs, rolling eyes and face-palms, before he spoke again, “can you be sure that she still feels the same way though?  Enough to make a difference now?”
They all nodded, Phoebe explained, “there’s never been anyone else.  She doesn’t date, doesn’t really have the desire to, but if it were you…”
“She still mentions you,” Amelia piped up, “if we ever have conversations about romance or whatever, your name usually comes up.” 
I had worked with Amelia at the cinema, even after I escaped that terrible place, we remained close, so when her flat-mate moved out, I moved in.  Over the past two or three years, she had been the one around me the most whilst the others were focused on their families and careers.  If I had spoken of Phillip, she would have heard.
“What about you?” Phoebe asked him, “do you still feel the same?”
“Well, it’s been almost ten years since we’ve spent any real time together,” he replied, “we’re probably not even the same people that we used to be.”
His words were met with expectant looks.
A small smile appeared on his face, “but whenever I think of her, I still get nervous.”
Unsuppressed smiles and a chorus of, “awww” rippled out of each person within earshot.  Heads had been turning throughout the conversation and more than a few people had heard the bashful confession. 
A flurry of light laughter floated around the area, “Laura is going to slaughter us,” Julie said, “let’s hope this works.”
Shooing away any onlookers, the four of them headed up the ramp.  At the top, Phoebe stopped Amelia and Julie saying, “let’s give them some privacy.”
Phillip approached me alone.

My mind wandered in the darkness.  Thoughts of loss, misery, pain and confusion overwhelmed my brain and heart, I was left feeling paralyzed. 
I cannot recall any refined or specific emotion or thought from that blackness, it was as though I was thinking and feeling everything at once, not just my own emotions, but those of everyone that surrounded me.  I felt the loss of a child, of a lover, of my friends and family, yet, in reality, I had lost none of those things.
Throughout the course of that day, I had started to regain my hearing.  I could hear people waking without the expected hangovers, the applause as Chasity was shut down and the cheers for our saviors.
As the first of the lights began to dip, signaling beds becoming occupied, I became aware of a voice.
The voice that I had never been able to forget, that my heart constantly longed to hear.
It came from so close by, that when I turned my gaze from the ceiling to my right, I immediately found the source. 
I was lying on my back, legs stretched out, my left side to the short wall of the platform, arm resting on my stomach, my right arm bent up so that my hand was near my head, and my face directed at the roof.
He was sat to my right, knees bent to the side, weight on his right hand and my right hand in his left.
Seeing that I had tuned my gaze to him, he shifted so that he was sat straight on his knees and, reaching out, stroked some stray hair from my cheek, resting his hand there, gently stroking the my cheekbone with his thumb.
I parted my lips to speak but found my mouth was dry as a bone.
After swallowing a few times, I tried again.
“Phillip?”  My voice was barely above a whisper yet I knew that he could hear me.
“Hey,” he murmured, “welcome back.”
Admittedly, it took me a while for my head to catch up and understand the words that he said, so for a few moments I sat simply staring at him with a puzzled look on my face.
“How’re you feeling?”
My brain was able to understand that sentence straight away, “I…  I don’t… know.”
I made to sit up, my body aching from being on the ground for so long.  He released my hand and placed it on my back to support me as I rose.  I twisted my legs around so that I could lean back against the wall.
He took my right hand in both of his hands, resting against the wall next to me.
For a few minutes we simply sat, not saying anything.
At length, I managed to gather my thoughts enough to ask, “I spaced out?”
“Just a bit,” his response came with a slight smile.
“How long?  Has anything important happened?”
The smile disappeared, “there's been a few things.  A guy, whose name was Liam, apparently worked at the cinema.”
“Yeah, he was a ‘challenging’ colleague.  What happened?”
“He committed suicide.”
“What?  Oh god, that’s... ”  I took a little while to process the information, “he was troubled in his home life I believe.  I suppose, with everything that’s happened, it’s not an unthinkable thing to do.  What happened exactly?”
“No one’s sure, someone found him in the men’s toilets.  He’d cut his wrists.”
“Fuck,” it felt as though the wind had been knocked out of me, half of my words came out as breaths, “how was it handled?  He’s not still there is he?”
“No, no some tharat helped to take him away and clear the scene, no one except for the few people who found him saw him, no kids did.”
I furrowed my brow, “where did they take him?  Do you know?”
“From what I heard, they’ve got some sort of infirmary with cryogenic freezing equipment, so they’ll keep him there until we’re relocated.”
“Have we heard where we’re going yet?”
“Orthus says they’re still waiting for confirmation, I think.” 
“Orthus?” 
“He’s the commander of this ship,” Phillip said, “he was the one that spoke when we first got here.”  His hands still held onto mine making me inescapably aware of how intimate he was acting, yet there were more pressing things to discuss.  “Earlier today,” he continued, “he had to deal with some woman who was claiming that she thought that the food was poison or could brain wash us.  It was quite entertaining really.”
I watched his face as he spoke, noting that he still acted the same as I remember him from when we were younger, somewhat carefree and at ease.  Without realizing it, I was still staring after he had finished speaking, I must have had a certain look on my face, as he asked, “is something wrong?”
I shook my head, “wrong?  No, its just,” I hurried to find the right way to phrase my thoughts, “considering all that’s happened, all that has been lost, you appear quite... lighthearted.”
His expression softened, a hint of sadness appeared in his eyes, “I have lost everything, we all have and, yes, it is beyond painful, but we are still here.  We have a future, there is more than enough hope to go around,” his thumbs began stroking the backs of my hand.  “Yesterday, when Liam was found, a group of people had a small memorial sort of thing for him, which turned into a memorial for all of the people that are gone.  More and more people joined in, and by the end of the evening everyone here was saying goodbye and making toasts.  We were given some sort of ceremonial drink that the tharat use for celebrating life.  It was strong alcohol but nobody had a hangover and if was like everyone’s mood was lifted.”
“It sounds like a good opportunity to start moving on,” my heart ached a little, “I’m sad to have missed it.”
Phillip squeezed my hand, “there will be other chances, I could go ask for a couple of glasses now if you like?”
“As odd as it sounds,” I raised my free hand to place over his, “I feel quite at peace.  I think that once we arrive at our new home, I would like to take my time and honour them in my own way.” 
We sat in silence for a few more minutes during which I listened to the noises coming from bellow.  There was an undercurrent of sadness flowing through the voices, the occasional sob or pained sigh reached my ears.  However, so did the occasional ripple of laughter. 
“It feels almost relaxed out there,” I observed, tilting my head to face him.  I came to realize that he was watching me, a gentle smile on his face.
“What,” my paranoia reared its head, “do I look a mess?  I’m probably in need of a shower and a hair brush.”
The smile widened as he shook his head, “I don’t think you’ve ever looked better than you do right now.”
In that instant, I genuinely felt as though my heart might go into arrest.  It had been rather accelerated by his presence, which was not made any better by him holding my hand.  However they were palpations that I had long since weathered myself against, I could live with them.
Yet when he spoke those words, with that look in his eyes and the close proximity of our bodies, I found myself spectacularly out of my emotional depth.
It was all I could do to keep breathing as he leaned his head towards mine with a slow awkwardness that matched the thoughts in my head.  Which were coming so fast and thick that I was forced to block all of them out as I gave into my natural instincts.
I tilted my head forwards to meet his lips with my own.
The kiss was short.  Awkward yet gentle, and painfully sweet.
We drew apart slowly. 
I wanted to speak, however I felt that I might scream if I did, so I simply watched his face and waited.
“Laura,” his mouth was dry and his throat hoarse, “ever since college,” he cupped my cheek in one hand, “I…”  Like me, his words were refusing to come.
I raised my hand to hold his, “me to.”  I pulled it away from my face a little and kissed his palm. 
I am fairly certain that, at the time, I assumed that I was dreaming and decided that I might as well be honest with him.
Reality, if that’s what you could call the events that were unfolding, pulled me back in.
I kissed his hand again and drew back fully.
“When we are settled, when we get where we are headed, you and I should…” I could not stop myself from giving him a cheeky look, “talk.”
His expression took on a impudent look of its own, he nodded, “yes, we should talk, lots.”  Incapable of keeping a smirk from his lips, he added, “I look forward to those… conversations.”
We both took a deep breath and sat up straight.
“Right,” I let go of his hand and slapped my knees, “time to rejoin humanity.”