Vanitas lets go like he's been burned as Ventus gives a cry, every single nerve flaring on edge for the slightest indication that that was too loud - and he can't know. His breathing is rapid and pained; theirs both is.

"Shh, shh! Shut up! Get up!" A sharp bark - the kind that makes him get up quick before the keyblade teeth come down and make him. He tries to press a hand over Ventus's mouth again and gets batted. The things Ventus is saying, babbling, are making gorge and hackles rise and he has no idea what do other than the urgency of the situation pressing down on him. He's never seen this from the outside. He can remember feeling like this but he can't remember what to do - he's scrabbling for purchase.

He stops still, and then scrambles back under the bed next to Ventus, bracing his arms and legs against the wall and with straining effort trying to push Ventus out from under the bed with his back - it doesn't last long before he flops, panting. "Come. On. Already." He could leave Ventus behind... but the thought itself is selfishly recoiling. No, he's not going to. He shouldn't have to.