It's All Part of the Story

If I could dance with you again

December 2014

TW - panic attack - don't listen to Dancing With Our Hands Tied, just don't...

Taylor honestly didn't think this day could get any worse. She had woken up with a splitting headache and a mouth that felt like she had swallowed cotton balls and several missed calls from Tree. She had spent the morning pacing her living room with her phone glued to her ear whilst she and Tree had discussed how they were going to handle this.

Karlie had thought that Taylor might have wanted some space to hash things out with Tree without her hovering but Taylor had taken one look at the overnight bag Karlie had packed and had asked her to stay with wide, panicked eyes. So Karlie had busied herself with tidying up the debris from their late night and trying to get Taylor to eat and drink something.

Taylor's phone dings and she opens a message from Tree with next week's People cover of her and Karlie staring up at her and the breath is knocked out of her. When she turns back she can see Karlie's mouth move as she asks her if she's okay but Taylor can't hear her, suddenly can't hear anything but the sound of blood rushing in her ears, drowning out everything and making her feel like she's underwater.

She feels dread grip her, like a tight hand wrapped around her throat and she's having trouble breathing, the corners of her vision going spotty. Her first instinct is to run and she stumbles briefly before finding her footing, her phone slipping from her hand and falling to the hardwood floor. She's not sure how it happens but she's in the downstairs bathroom and she still feels like something is trying to choke the life out of her and she barely makes it to the toilet before throwing up.

She's not sure how long she's there for but it can't be long because suddenly there are fingers in her hair, brushing strands away from her clammy forehead and Taylor burns with shame and embarrassment as she throws up, when she realises that it's Karlie on the floor behind her smoothing back her hair.

She's barely aware of Karlie shifting her so she's sitting right behind her but when her throwing up slows, Taylor's infinitely grateful for the tissue handed to her as she wipes her mouth and that she leans back to find Karlie's body there, a loose arm wrapped around her middle.

The world is still eerily silent as her heart beats a mile a minute in her chest but at least she no longer feels like the breath is being choked out of her even if the strong sense of dread is hard to shake.

Karlie's hold on her is light but her fingers softly stroke along Taylor's back and she finds herself focusing more and more on the small, gentle touch, Karlie's hands warm and grounding through the thin material of her shirt.

She twists in the embrace and Karlie pulls her closer, cradles Taylor's head against her and Taylor can tell that she's talking, can feel the rumble of Karlie's voice where her forehead is pressed against Karlie's neck and she tries to focus on that, tries to calm the loud rush of blood in her ears.

Taylor concentrates on the hum of Karlie's voice, and she knows she's silently crying but slowly, steadily, sound starts filtering in.

"Listen to my voice, baby," Karlie says and Taylor barely hears it but she frowns as she tries to focus really hard, works on concentrating on the sound of Karlie's voice and her hearing slowly returns, Karlie's soft voice loud in her ears because of her proximity and Taylor frowns against Karlie's neck when she finally figures out that Karlie is telling her a made-up story about the cats.

Karlie feels Taylor's breathing begin to slow and she presses her lips to Taylor's forehead in a quick, reassuring kiss.

"Keep talking," Taylor whispers so Karlie continues and Taylor carefully follows the story, notices her tears slowing. Karlie is warm and solid and Taylor feels safe wrapped in her arms on the bathroom floor. Taylor curls even further into her as she steals Karlie's body heat, feeling the cold seep out of her skin, her body no longer shaking as violently as it had been before.