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devils-queen

666

Panick Attack

The midday light poured in through the window, illuminating the room with an almost cruel clarity. Everything looked too sharp: the furniture, the wooden floor, even the tension floating in the air.

She opened the door carefully, feeling the tense silence that filled the room, and asked in a low voice:

“What… what’s wrong?”

He turned toward her, shoulders rigid, arms crossed, jaw tight. His voice burst out, firm, loud, sharp, filling the room like a blow:

“I can’t keep tolerating this, Ana! I can’t,” he said, and every word seemed to echo in her chest. “I always feel like you cross my boundaries… like you invade my space… and I can’t… I can’t accept it anymore.”

The idea sank deep into him, feeding his anger, making him more rigid, more cutting. Every word he said seemed to reinforce that perception: she looked fragile, vulnerable… and that seemed far too convenient to him, suspiciously calculated.

My heart… is going too fast… my chest… burns…

lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub…lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub…lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub…lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub…lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub…lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub…lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub… hah… hah… hah… hah…

She took a step back, her feet sliding slightly across the floor. Her heart pounded hard, too fast, too strong. Every word from him pierced her, as if each sound were a hammer striking her chest. Her breathing sped up immediately, short, uneven. She tried to speak, to explain that it wasn’t true, but only a weak, nearly suffocated gasp came out.

As he spoke, a thought rose in his mind that made him tense even more:

Why does it always seem like she does this on purpose? Is she trying to manipulate me, play with my emotions?

“Are you listening to me?” his voice rose a little more, sharp. “Do you even understand that this bothers me?”

She swallowed with difficulty, tongue dry, lips trembling. She tried to say she had no intention of invading him, but every word was lost in a broken sob. Her legs began to weaken. Her head spun, and an intense dizziness made her lean against the nearest wall.

No… I can’t… I feel like I’m going to fall… the air… won’t go in…

“Ana… I need you to look at me when I’m talking,” he said, his voice firm, loud, loaded with anger. “Every time you do this, I feel like you break my boundaries.”

In his mind, the suspicion of manipulation still lingered:

Maybe she wants me to feel guilty… to give in… to stop…

Every gasp, every tremor, seemed to confirm his first judgment. And yet, something in his instinct made him doubt, a small thread of awareness telling him that maybe… just maybe, she wasn’t pretending, that her fear was real.

She tried to nod, but barely moved a muscle, her body reacting before her mind. Her breathing was an uneven thread, a broken gasp burning her lungs. Every beat of her heart thundered in her head, fast, uncontrolled.

My chest… hurts… I’m going to lose control…

“I don’t want this to be an argument,” he continued, his tone still loud, sharp, “but I need you to understand how I feel. You can’t… you can’t ignore my boundaries like this.”

As he spoke, his thought slowly changed:

...no… this isn’t manipulation. This isn’t a game… something is happening to her.

The tension in the room, the fragility in her voice and body, the way her legs trembled, everything was beginning to convince him that her fear and panic were real.

She took another step back, her feet trembling beneath her. Every movement cost effort. Her whole body was alert, tense, and the dizziness made her stagger. Every word from him hit her senses hard, amplified by the panic she felt.

I can’t… I can’t hold myself up… I’m going to fall…

“Ana… is something wrong?” he frowned, noticing her instability. “Are you okay?”

She tried to answer, but only a long, broken sob left her lips. Her breathing was fast, shallow, every inhale an effort. Heat rose through her chest, mixing with a cold that ran down her back, and every second stretched out, slow, endless, as the pressure in her chest increased.

My heart… is going too fast… the air… won’t go in…

He took another step, carefully, extending his hands toward her, trying to keep enough distance not to overwhelm her, but at the same time supporting her:

“Easy… breathe with me… slowly…” he said, firm, but worried. “I’m here.”

She tried to imitate his breathing, but her body wouldn’t obey. Every inhale was an effort, every exhale a small victory. The pressure in her chest, the dizziness, the trembling in her legs, everything combined into a physical panic that was slowly consuming her.

I can’t… I’m going to fall… I don’t want to…

Her legs gave out for a moment, and he reacted immediately, catching her carefully, afraid that fainting would take her. Every fiber of her body screamed exhaustion, every heartbeat was an uncontrolled drum in her chest.

“Ana… I’m here… I’m not letting go,” he said, firm, watchful. “Just breathe… slowly… with me…”

She tried to stay conscious, but her eyelids were beginning to close involuntarily. The daylight became too bright and confusing around her, and a sharp heat ran through her body. Every breath was a heroic effort; every sob, a minimal release.

I don’t want to… I can’t… no…

The dizziness completely overcame her. Her body gave in, and he held her tightly, terrified, feeling how her fragility deepened his fear. His presence, his firm voice, and the security of his hands were the only things keeping her floating at the edges of consciousness while the world around her slowly disappeared.

He held her carefully as her body slowly gave in, completely weak. The fainting had taken hold of her, leaving her light, almost floating between consciousness and nothingness. Her breathing was minimal, barely noticeable, and the beats of her heart, though strong before, now felt slower, irregular, like disordered drums.

He leaned a little closer to her, evaluating every gesture, every weak breath. His hands trembled as he gently settled her onto the sofa, adjusting her arms and legs so she would be stable, watching for any sign of alarm. The midday light came through the window, reflecting the fear he felt across his face.

lub-dub… lub-dub…lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub…lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub…lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub…lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub…lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub…lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub… hah… hah…

For a long moment, he remained watching her, measuring the depth of her breathing, the way her fingers barely moved. Every small gesture seemed like a miracle, and every heartbeat a reminder of how fragile she was. He said nothing, only held her there, waiting for her to come back.

Little by little, her eyelids began to move, a slow flutter that made him hold his breath. He brought his face close to hers, carefully, trying to transmit safety through his presence alone.

“It’s okay… breathe with me, slowly,” he whispered, his voice low but firm. “Easy, I’m not going to let go.”

She tried to imitate his breathing. Every inhale was an effort; every exhale, a small relief. Her body was still trembling, weak and warm at the same time, with the pressure in her chest that had not fully eased.

He held her closer, adjusting her posture so she would not collapse. His eyes traced every sign of fear, every tremor, every gasp. Every broken breath made him understand that this was not pretending; her body was telling him the truth his mind was still trying to process.

“Just breathe… slowly,” he said again, softer, calmer. “There’s no rush… you’re okay.”

Ana began to slowly move her fingers, then her feet. Every gesture, every tiny movement, seemed like a victory. He held her firmly, watching every second, making sure her body stayed stable while she regained strength.

lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub…lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub…lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub…lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub…lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub…lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub…lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub… hah… hah… hah… hah…

Little by little, Ana opened her eyes fully, looking at him with a mixture of confusion and exhaustion. Her breathing was still fast and uneven, her legs could barely support her, and the heat in her body mixed with a sharp cold along her back. He hugged her lightly, without squeezing, only to give her security while her heart began to calm down.

“It’s over now… easy…” he whispered, watching her movements, breathing slowly. “It’s okay.”

She nodded weakly, letting out a thin thread of a sob. He said nothing else, only stayed there, adjusting his posture so she would not fall again, staying with her while her breathing began to normalize. The midday light kept flooding the room, and every second seemed to stretch infinitely, as if time itself had stopped while they regained their balance.

They remained like that, long minutes of silence interrupted by breaths and irregular heartbeats, while he watched every sign that she was okay. Every gesture she made, every small movement, gave him reassurance and, at the same time, kept him constantly alert, aware of the fear still running through her body.

He held her against himself, gentle but firm, while the weight of her body slowly leaned into him, completely defeated by the dizziness and emotional exhaustion. The midday light still poured through the window, illuminating every fold of her clothes, every strand of hair damp with tears, every tremor her body could not control.

She stayed silent for a moment, breathing unevenly, until a deep sob broke the air. Her shoulders shook with hiccups mixed with short, rhythmic, disordered gasps. Every shudder seemed to pull her a little further out of control of her body, and he held her closer, trying to steady her without suffocating her.

The sound of her heart was obvious even from where he was. Sometimes it seemed to race even more with every sob, and though he noticed it, he said nothing, only thought it, while adjusting his arms and keeping her body steady and safe.

“Easy…” he whispered softly, calmer now, lower than before. “Breathe… slowly… everything is okay…”

She arched her back slightly, seeking support against him, and the sobs continued, long and heartbreaking. Every hiccup made her curl in a little more, her hands searching for something to hold and not finding it, and he adjusted the pressure of his embrace, firm but protective, trying to transmit safety through his touch and presence alone.

Minute after minute, the crying did not stop. Her breaths were broken, her shoulders trembling irregularly, her head moving slightly forward and back, as if trying to soften the intensity of every emotion. He remained still, watching every gesture, every small movement that showed she was still conscious, even though her body was defeated by fear and tension.

“Shh…” he whispered again. “It’s okay… I’m here… just breathe…”

She tried to answer, but only managed a thread of a sob and a gasp. The hiccups continued, mixed with her rapid breathing, forming an irregular rhythm that filled the room. Every beat of her heart seemed to explode in her ears, and he could clearly sense it, though he did not mention it. He only held her, afraid of making any sudden movement that might make her fall again.

With every passing minute, the crying became less violent, but deeper, with small intervals in which she tried to recover her breathing, only to let out another sob and another hiccup. He remained attentive, adjusting the position of his embrace, gently stroking her back, breathing slowly so she could try to follow his rhythm.

“Breathe… slowly…” he whispered again, firmer this time. “You don’t have to talk… just breathe…”

The fragility of her body became more evident with every movement. Her legs trembled, her shoulders tightened, her head tilted to one side searching for relief. Every small gesture was a reminder of the intensity of what had just happened: the fear, the tension, the panic, and the emotional overload that had completely brought her down.

lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub…lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub…lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub…lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub…lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub…lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub…lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub… hah… hah… hah… hah… hip… hip… hip…

Minute after minute, time seemed to stretch. He remained there, motionless, only adjusting his posture to keep her stable, letting every small sob and every hiccup be released while his own heart stayed on alert, aware of how fast hers was beating.

After many minutes, Ana slowly began to calm down, the sobs farther apart, the hiccups softer. His embrace remained firm, constant, an anchor keeping her present while her body tried to regain some control. Her shoulders still trembled, her hands lightly clung to him, and every breath was a measured effort.

Suddenly, a thought crossed her mind, almost like lightning: “I’m wrong… this is wrong… I should be able to control it… I shouldn’t have fainted, I shouldn’t have cried so much… even if it wasn’t my fault.”

The air grew heavy in her chest. Her mind and body reacted before she could realize it: she tried to hold back the tears, and with that, she stopped breathing involuntarily. Her lungs stayed still, her chest rigid, while her eyes unconsciously searched for some point of support. Fear and guilt mixed inside her body, tightening every fiber of her being.

He noticed immediately. His expression tightened, his worry shot up again. He felt how her body reacted to the lack of breath, the racing pulse, the rigidity, and fear took hold of him. He moved her gently, trying to get her attention, to trigger some reflex, some small gesture that would pull her out of the paralysis.

“What are you doing? Why aren’t you breathing?” he asked, his voice firm but filled with panic. “Breathe… please, breathe.”

She remained still, focused on holding back the tears, keeping her breathing blocked. Her body tensed, her hands clutched him with involuntary force, her shoulders rigid. Time stretched endlessly while he held her, adjusting his embrace, gently moving her arms, trying to make her relax without letting go.

lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub…lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub…lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub…lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub…lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub…lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub…

He brought his face closer to hers, softly stroking her back, her neck, trying to transmit safety, trying for some gesture—any gesture—to pull her out of that block.

“Please… just breathe…” he whispered, lower now, more urgent. “You don’t have to hold anything back, you’re not alone…”

A long, tense, silent moment passed, where all that could be heard was her heart beating and the small tremors of her body. Ana remained rigid, her eyes barely open, her body suspended between guilt and desperation, refusing to let air enter her lungs again.

Finally, after what felt like endless seconds, her chest moved shakily. A thread of air escaped slowly, followed by another, and then a deeper one. The sobs she had been holding back began to slip out again, softer now, broken, releasing the tension that had locked her in place.

lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub…lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub…lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub…lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub…lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub…lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub…lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub… hah… hah… hah… hah…

He held her tighter, letting his embrace absorb every tremor, every recovered breath, every small gesture that showed she was returning to life, though fragile and shaking. His arms moved slowly along her back, his head resting close to hers, watching every breath, every sob, every heartbeat that was still fast but manageable.

“It’s okay… everything is okay now…” he whispered, with no pressure, only presence. “Just breathe… slowly…”

She kept breathing slowly, between weak sobs, while he remained there, like a silent anchor, holding her, staying with her, making sure she would not block again, making sure every inhale was safe, every exhale a small relief.

lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub…lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub…lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub…lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub…lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub…lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub…lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub… hah… hah… hah… hah…

Time stretched out, every second felt long and heavy, but safe. He said nothing else, he did not pressure her; he was simply there, firm, watchful, while she slowly recovered the rhythm of her breathing and awareness of her body.

Ana breathed slowly, each inhale still short, but enough for him to notice she was returning to awareness of her body. Her shoulders trembled, but no longer violently; they were small shakes, a reflection of the tension still left inside her. He gently adjusted his embrace, settling her back and head against his chest, making sure she did not move too quickly.

lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub… hah… hah… hah… hah…

She began to move her fingers, then her feet, slowly. Every gesture was a small victory, and he noticed it in silence, holding his breath as he followed every movement. His eyes watched her carefully, alert to any sign that she might block her breathing again or panic.

“It’s okay… it’s okay…” he whispered, his voice firm and soft. “You don’t have to rush. Just breathe, let your body come back to you little by little.”

The sobs continued, though softer now, with hiccups growing farther apart. Ana leaned more and more against him, her legs still trembling, but able to hold some weight. He held her carefully, allowing every small movement of hers to be safe, giving her stability.

lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub… hah… hah… hah… hah… hip… hip… hip…

After a few long minutes, Ana began to turn her head slightly, looking for him. Her eyes were still glassy, but awareness was returning, slowly, along with deeper, steadier breathing. He adjusted the embrace, resting his chin on her shoulder and gently stroking her back to keep her calm.

“Easy… just breathe…” he whispered. “You don’t have to talk… just breathe… I’m here.”

Little by little, her legs began to hold her with more strength, though still weak. He helped her sit up slowly, making sure every movement was safe, as if they were dancing to the slow rhythm of her recovery. Every step was careful, every breath accompanied by small sobs or hiccups that showed her body was still processing the fear and guilt.

lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub… hah… hah… hah… hah… hip… hip… hip…

Ana finally sat on the sofa, resting her head against his shoulder, still with broken breaths and soft sobs. He stayed there, adjusting his arms around her, breathing slowly, setting a rhythm she could follow, like an invisible anchor keeping her balanced.

“It’s okay…” he said, his voice firm but calm. “Everything is okay now. You can breathe, you can cry… it’s okay.”

The minutes stretched slowly. Every sob was softer, the hiccups less frequent, the breathing steadier. He remained firm, staying with her, watching every heartbeat and every tremor of her body, without rushing anything.