“Please, we’re fine.”

We were, in fact, not fine.

“Yes, because hanging on by quite literally a thread to the side of a mountain face screams fine.”

“I’ve never been better,” he retorts.

I feel a brief and overwhelming urge to shove him over the edge. At least then you could have the whole platform to yourself.

“This was a horrible idea! I don’t know why I agreed to do this in the first place.” He spins around as fast as possible, stopping short when the rope above you creaks.

“Do you really think I planned for this?” He hisses, as if the rope will break if he’s any louder. “You know I wouldn’t have purposely put you in danger.” For a moment, the only sound is the wind.

“I’m sorry,” he gets out.

“It’s not your fault,” I tell him. He looks at me with those remorseful puppy dog eyes he knows I can’t stand.

“Seriously, it’s okay. We’re going to be alright. I promise.” I grab his hand and he grips it tightly. Rubbing small circles across his hand absentmindedly, I begin to formulate a plan.

“Okay. So, a couple of our ropes are unfastened. We can still make it down. What weight did you say those carabiners could hold?”

“230 pounds.” He’s relaxing as much as one can in this situation, and I can see his gears start to turn as well. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Between you and me we’re 235. We can make it.”

“But 230 is the maximum it’s rated for.”

“Do you have a better idea?” His silence on proves my point.

“Okay. We’ll fasten the rope to both of us. We’ll switch on and off climbing down while the other will be let down.”

“That could take hours.” He takes in your look. “But, what other option do we have.”

“I’ll go first. You’re in no condition to climb right now.”

“Please,” he scoffs. “I’m not about to let a begginner climber go before me.” His smirk, so familiar, settles your nerves.

“Let’s do this.”