𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 | ✓

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩 𝟏𝟔

It's been a day or two, and I've found myself feeling somewhat normal again, however, it only seems to remain during the day. I've still had trouble sleeping, and waking up to panic attacks frequently, but there's been progress.

I've been occupying myself with shopping and walking around the streets of new york alone. Lately, Ryder has been gone when I wake up, and only coming back just before I go to bed, and as for Luka, he's been too busy catching up on his business, he doesn't have much time for me and I don't want to interrupt him.

But once nighttime rolls around, and I'm all alone in the dark room, staring at the unfamiliar ceiling, the familiar feeling sits in my chest, urging to attack me at any minute. Like it is right now.

It has been just over an hour since Ryder came home, and I assumed that he had already gone to bed. With that in mind, I made an attempt to get some sleep. I managed to sleep for what felt like five minutes before I'm suddenly woken up, overpowered with panic.

I lie in the dark with a racing heart and shallow breaths, trying to calm my nerves and steady my breathing, but the feeling only lingered heavier. None of my usual coping mechanisms that I've been using for the past few nights, or even the past twelve years are helping, I've never had one this strong ever since I was younger.

I can't breathe, no matter how hard I try to gasp for extra air, it doesn't work. As I struggled to catch my breath, tears begin to uncontrollably stream down my face.

It becomes too strong, and with the mechanisms not working, my last resort is Ryder. With a trembling breath, I slowly rise from the bed, my legs feeling weak and unsteady beneath me. I take a few hesitant steps towards the bedroom door, before a tall figure suddenly appears in it. "Whats the problem?" his voice low and hoarse as he mutters, His eyes still heavy with sleep.

His somewhat arrogant and irritated tone reminds me that he doesn't care about me or my problems, and that I'm only disturbing him. I shake my head and attempt to close the door, but he's quick to stop me. "I'd rather waste my time hearing you go on about your problems than go to sleep hearing you cry all night, now tell me what your problem is so I can go back to sleep, I have an important meeting in the morning."

When I don't respond, still trying to balance my breathing, he drops his head a little to look at me, seeming a little more concerned, realising i'm not okay. "Please?" his voice low and gentle this time.

Suddenly, he's directing me back to the bed, sitting on the edge of it. "Take your time, you're alright." He reassures, and it somewhat calms me down. Silence hangs in the air for a moment, as I manage to catch my breath, my chest heaving up and down getting slower.

His eyes, filled with worry, roamed across my face, seeking an explanation. "You right?" he questions with an arched brow, I respond with a subtle nod, feeling a little embarrassed. My head hung low, with my eyes fixed on the blanket as I picked at the invisible lint. "Panic attacks," I mumble under my breath, hoping that'll be enough without a longer explanation.

He gives a soft nod, his face expressing a sense of complete understanding. I don't believe anybody will completely understand this feeling until they experience it first-hand, I wouldn't wish it upon anybody. I can still feel the feeling lingering in my chest, and I know this isn't over.

Before it manages to worsen again, He gestures for me to move over and lie down. I followed his instructions, though not entirely sure what he was doing. I watch as he lies down beside me, keeping a wide space between us on the bed, before resting his hands on his chest and looking up at the ceiling.

"Concentrate on your breathing," his voice low and steady, his eyes closing, making me feel less awkward, doing this together. "Stay in the present." I focused on the rise and fall of my chest, the sound of my breathing echoing in my ears. It was a struggle to keep my mind from wandering, but his steady voice managed to keep me anchored. "You're doing good," he says softly, just above a whisper.

"Inhale deeply, and then exhale slowly. Keep your mind here, and let everything else fade away." I followed his instructions, suddenly feeling my body become lighter and more relaxed with each breath.

As my eyes grew heavier, I couldn't help but wonder how he knew how to do that so well,  and why did he bother to help me when he had never shown any concern for me before?

I keep my eyes closed as the thoughts swirl around in my head, suddenly feeling a blanket cover my body, surrounding me in warmth. My lip curves slightly in appreciation, my body not having any energy to even open my eyes anymore.

I feel him hesitate, a few silent seconds pass, before I feel him eventually get up off the bed and quietly head towards the bedroom door. "Thank you." I whisper ever so softly, and just when I thought he couldn't of possibly heard me, he gently hushes me from the door before pulling it closed.

The darkness of the room envelops me, and I drift into a peaceful sleep. Free of panic, free of the feeling that's been weighing on me for weeks, feeling the most comfortable I've felt in ages.

I appreciate what he did, maybe he's not so bad after all.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
AN/word count - 1000