shattered

chapter 27

Holy shit. Holy fucking shit.

My body freezes at the sensation of his thumb running along my scar. My muscles straining as they lock into place.

I need to move. I need to move my hand. He can't know what it is.

Oh my god, hes touching my scars.

He's going to know I'm a freak.

My breathing starts to become shallow, I can't draw air into my lungs again. I can't breathe again. There's a huge weight on my chest. All the actions of my past are pushing down on me, making it harder and harder to breathe. Forcing the air out of my lungs and not letting any more in.

Black spots start to float in my vision. Black spots of pure hell, black spots of pain, hurt, anger. They all consume me, dragging me under. Down further and further into hell. Where air no longer exists.

Where nothing exists.

I feel myself falling. The edge didn't even show, it was just a free fall. A free fall into hell.

I can't breathe and I can't move, and he knows the truth.

Sounds are screaming in my ears, or in my head, I don't even know anymore. It sounds as if ten thousand people are yelling at me, and it's just a mash up of sound.

Then it disappears. The noise, the spots, the falling.

Suddenly I'm back. Sensation takes over my mind.

Feelings. Passion, lust. Touch. Whispered words.

"Breathe, breathe with me ______." Yhe words are whispered against my ear. His lips brushing against the shell slightly.

My hand is held against his chest. Rising and falling with his breaths.

I try to draw breath. Try to fill my lungs. Small amounts make it in, but not much. Not enough.

His hand leaves mine to cup my cheeks. Raising my face, and making my eyes catch and lock onto his. My fingers clutch at his shirt. Clutching at the fabric beneath them.

Then he starts to sing. The words a whisper against his lips to start off with. I know singing isn't his forte, but it grounds me in the moment. He sings a lullaby to me, one that I remember from my childhood. One that grounds me.

My breaths start to become stronger, more fluid. The weight of everything that was crushing me lifting and freeing me.

I don't know how he is able to do this. I don't know how he is able to draw me back into the here and now, when no one else has ever been able to. He has some force that calls to me in my darkest moments, dragging me out of whatever hell I am trapped in. Showing me a way to freedom when I can't see anything, when I can't do anything.

I blink at him, feeling more like my self than I have all night. I feel embarrassed that I have had another panic attack in front of him. He shouldn't have to deal with that kind of shit from me, and yet he seems to always be that one that does.

"Hello."

"Sorry." The word sounds broken.

"Why are you sorry?" He looks at me in wonder.

"I always do this to you." I whisper the words to him.

"Do what?"

"Ruin everything. Fall apart."

His little finger caresses the skin of my cheek.

"You don't ruin anything."

I can't stop the scoff that comes from me. Such sweet bullshit. Beautiful lies, but I know the truth.