Credence Barebone Preferences

Panic! At The Party

Warning: contains a mild panic attack.

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Music reverberated throughout your chest, shaking you to your very core, just as his single whispered, "Follow me" had resonated with you in a similarly indescribable way.

The overtly loud beat pounded within the constraints of your skull, muddling your thoughts, which were already centric of his lips, their delicate curvature and undeniable sweetness, that you had only tasted briefly. Undeniably laced with sweetened alcohol and something simply him. Cool, yet simultaneously warm.

Melancholy lyrics, recited by a talented singer overtook the pacey melody, her sadness no match for your unbridled giddiness.

You felt as if you were on cloud nine, your heart fluttering in recollection of your previous embrace. Stolen kisses in darkened corners, how very scandalous should someone have spied upon you both, entwined like lovesick teenagers.

Despite the excitement of it all, you felt an unwanted feeling of uneasiness creeping through your mind. No matter how much you tried to push it away, there it was, displayed before your mind's eye in full, uninhibited glory. Ready as always to pull the rug of happiness from beneath your feet, leaving you in a freefall of anxiety.

Snaking through the crowd of mingling socialites and pompous dignitaries, suave actors and dazzling actresses- you held onto his hand tightly, in pure hope of not becoming separated from one another.

Senses on high alert, you found the obnoxious laughter like a hammer to your skull- painful, unwanted and disorientating to say the least.

Thankfully you made it to the elevator in one piece.

As soon as the mirrored doors closed upon you both, your lover did not hesitate in pulling you into his arms, kisses pressed eagerly upon your lips but when you remained frozen in his usually comforting embrace, the male immediately sensed your unwillingness to participate in the union.

"(Y/N)?" he questioned quietly, cupping your face gently in his warm hands. The heat burning against your cool skin. He frowned as the first tear escaped and snaaked it's way like a free flowing river down your cheek. "Hey, what's wrong?" he asked in a hushed concern, careful not to talk too loudly, in fear of startling you while in a sudden fragile state.

"I'm sorry." were the only words that left your lips, before you sobbed: "I can't-" your words cut off as you bitterly wept.

"(Y/N)?" with the pads of his fingers, he brushed away the fresh tears, waiting patiently for you to talk to him.

Ding. The elevator came to an abrupt stop, hailed by other guests of the hotel, who were unknowing of your distress. With a soft whoosh, the doors opened.

Quick to hide you from view, as to not allow the strangers to stare agape at your evident upset, the male held you clise to his chest, face shielded by your trembling hands. "This lift is taken, sorry." he hastily apologised, while constantly pressing the button for his floor.

Once again you were on your way, gradually climbing up the levels. Thirteen...fourteen...fifeteen...

Now that you were alone without any further interruption, the male refocused all his attention on you, greatly concerned by your abrupt silence.

Tears meant sadness, silence was ominous, it could convey any enigmatic emotion.

"Sweetheart?" he questioned, pulling back slightly to get a good look at your tear-stained face. "Talk to me." he murmured, as he wiped the residual tears away. "Whatever it is, I'm listening."

Looking up at him with a watery gaze, your lip trembled as you began to explain how you'd suddenly felt overwhelmed, an anxiety attack.

It had been a while since you had experienced one and the sudden onset had taken you completely by surprise.

He listened as he'd promised, all the while concerned about your wellbeing and how you were feeling now in the moment.

Understandably exhausted from the unwanted rush of adrenaline, you gladly accepted your lover's offer to simply cuddle in bed together.

He even ordered hot chocolate and your favourite dish via room service, while you changed into one of his t-shirts.

In bed you found peace within the safety of his arms. No, it wasn't quite how you both had imagined the evening ending but being respected and loved correctly by someone you adored- what could have been better than that?


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A/N: a little update: I'm trying my best to stay strong. It isn't easy but I'm trying. To those who have been through something similar. I'm so f*cking sorry. I'm so sorry. It's not fair. It's cruel. It's so f*cking wrong. You didn't deserve it. You don't deserve it.