A Home for Burnt Boys (*Currently writing*)

Chapter Three - Astraphobia

"I think I should-"

Thunder cried out from the darkening sky, the clouds invisible above. I sprung back, unwrapping my arms from around Viktor. A scream wedged in my throat, as my head whipped back to where the thunder had originated.

Another roar of thunder came. Fear pierced through my veins as the storm continued. It only took one more strike for me to fall onto the floor. I curl up into a ball and gasp for my breath.

A faded voice shouts "Alexander. Alexander are you ok?" A pair of hands lifts me by my arms. "Alexander, open your eyes. Please." Viktor. I open my eyes slowly, as I struggle to catch my breath. His caramel eyes are staring down at me with such worry. "You need to calm down. Take some deep breaths with me." Viktor requests softly.

Another roar of thunder follows. This time my scream doesn't get wedged in my throat, it rips through me. "Alexander, you need to take some deep breaths. I can't take you back inside because I don't know if you mind being touched during a panic attack, and I know you aren't in the best place to talk. But if you don't start listening, then I'm going to have to bring you in." Viktor scolded. "Just follow my breaths, Alexander." I do as he says. I follow his slow breathing until mine matches his. "Well done, Alexander." He praised.

His hand reaches up to caress my cheek, and I flinch away. After my mind registers that he's not going to hurt me I push my cheek into his large, wet, calloused hand and close my eyes.

"Let's go inside before you catch a cold." Viktor instructs. As soon as we take a step towards the stairs, my head spins, and I fall to the floor. Viktor catches me before I can.

"Are you ok?" He asks perceptively as worry flashes through his features.

"I'm just feeling a little light headed." I rasp. His brows furrow as if he's thinking.

"I can help you get inside as best as I can without touching you, but I think it'll be better if I carry you, so you don't get hurt." He utters roughly. I bring my fingers up to my mouth and bite my nails in thought.

He hasn't tried to hurt me yet; he even helped me calm down from my panic attack, which usually takes me almost an hour. And he said he cares about me and he wants me here. I shouldn't but, I think I trust him.

I lift my arms up, "Carry me." I whisper. He smiles subtly and lifts me into his arms and our wet clothes press together. I nuzzle into his neck as he carries me through the front door and up the stairs. He opens a door walks in and shuts it behind us. I take my head out of his neck, and he places me on a cold hard surface.

We are in a bathroom; it has a homey feel. The walls are large format tiles of white honed travertine, and the floor is made of square brown tiles. The vanities are of dark wood, and the counters are brilliant white quartz. There is no bath but instead a huge walk-in shower with two shower heads.

Viktor walks over to the far side of the room and grabs two white towels from a rail. "Here, dry yourself off." I take a towel off him; it's soft and warm. "I need to go and talk to Danielo and the Boys. Will you be alright on your own for about 10 minutes?"

"Yeah," I answer with a fake smile. Viktor heads toward the door, but he stops and turns back quickly.

"Have you unpacked your clothes yet?" He asks. I shake my head. "I'll put out some of my clothes, but they might be a bit big, ok?" I nod, and he leaves.

"Wait aren't you going to get dry?" I question.

"Yeah, I'm going to use the bathroom down the hall," Viktor assures.

"Umm," I mumble, "You don't have to go..." I frown. A questioning look spreads over Viktor's face. "I don't want you to."

He smiles, "I'll dry off next door, and you can come in when you're done, ok?" I nod in reply.