Work Text:
You couldn't breathe.
Panic gripped at your chest so tight, it squeezed out the air inside your lungs.
In your mind, you kept telling yourself it was okay over and over again, like a mantra. It was fine, you were fine.
You kept trying to remind yourself of your own grounding techniques, flipping the catalog of visualizing and breathing exercises. The ones that would work every time you were alone, with no one else to rely on but yourself.
But you weren't by yourself this time.
You weren't in your own space either.
Sylus was just down the hall, in his study. And you craved his touch, craved his voice like you had never craved it before. All you wanted was to see him, have him tell you it was okay. Have him engrave the words in your brain, make the accelerated pace at which your thoughts raced come to a stop.
You were shaking heavily as your legs carried you down the hall where you found the door slightly open, the gentle melody of a vinyl record drifting out of the room.
Usually, you'd rap your knuckles against the door before you entered but there was just this tightness in your chest; an urgency you could not ignore.
When you burst into the room, Sylus' eyes lifted from the stack of documents he was holding to meet yours.
"What's wrong, sweetie?" he questioned, instantly standing up.
The papers were discarded onto his desk and in a few quick strides he was standing right in front of you, catching your hand which reached out for him within his gentle fingers.
As you told him what had triggered you to the best of your abilities, tears started flowing down your cheeks heavily. They blurred your vision and made it hard for you to focus on the crimson eyes which gazed back at you so attentively.
He listened to you closely, low encouraging hums rumbling from his chest, a big hand cradling your chin. The pad of his thumb wiped away the tears over and over again as they kept falling from your eye.
His touch didn't feel restricting, it was gentle, grounding. While leaning into it, you tried to blink away all the waterworks to no avail.
"Oh, kitten," he cooed.
Even through the tears you could see his eyes soften, their harsh lines smoothing.
Their usual cold crimson was warm; a vermillion ocean, so deep and tender.
You squeezed his hand and he let you, without a flinch, his thumb tracing over your knuckles back and forth at a slow, mindful pace.
"It's okay. You're okay," he reassured you in a low tone.
You hiccuped and choked all at the same time, the emotions flooding you far too great.
"I c-can't breathe," you told him miserably, gripping onto him like a lifeline.
"Yes, you can. Come on, kitten, breathe with me."
The steadiness in his deep voice was soothing and you felt it in your racing heart.
"Come on, breathe in," he instructed and he did it with you, in through the nose, taking in a deep breath at the same time you attempted to.
When you shook your head, assaulted by another wave of hiccups, he kept catching your tears, squeezing your hand in his.
"Shhh, it's okay. You're safe," he told you, gentle and firm. "There's no rush, take your time."
You wanted to close your eyes and focus on the slow stroking of his thumb over your knuckles but you were terrified he'd slip through your fingers if you did. Your mind kept playing tricks on you, telling you he’d walk away any second, tired of your antics. You were too panicked to contradict those thoughts.
"I'm not going anywhere," he assured you, as if he had a window open straight into your mind.
Sometimes you were thankful for his ability to predict just what was going through your head and through your heart.
"Come on, breathe with me," he said.
Sylus wasn't demanding but his tone was firm, always steady, like an anchor.
"Deep breath in. Can you do that with me?"
And you did, shakily so, along with him. In through the nose.
"That’s it, good. Now out, slowly."
And your lips formed an ‘o’ shape as you let out the air trapped inside your lungs. You could feel his warm breath against your wet cheeks as he breathed out along with you.
"Come on, you can do it again. Deep breath in."
And he kept coaxing mindful breaths out of you, his hands never leaving you, eyes locked onto yours the whole time. And he did everything right, cycle after cycle of breaths.
With patience that was reserved only for you, with gentleness he showed no one else, with an amount of love you deemed endless. He stayed right there with you. For as long as you needed him to.
When you were finally able to breathe on your own, he reached back for the box of tissues on his desk, plucking a few out. Always keeping a point of contact, with his hand still within yours.
"My sweet little kitten," he cooed, turning towards you again.
With a gentle touch, he helped you clean the remains of tears and snot off your face, utterly unbothered by the mess. Little clouds of black and red mist carried away the used tissues, straight into the trash can.
"How about we go get you some snacks and huddle up on the couch? We can watch that movie you mentioned?" he offered, lips carved by the gods curved by a small, gentle smile.
He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, and caught the tip of your nose between his fingers, giving it the lightest squeeze.
He didn't seem to mind your red face or your puffy eyes. There wasn't a single twitch, or shift in his expression when you sniffed.
"What about your work?" you questioned, already being led out of his office.
"It can wait." He shrugged.
And it did wait because Sylus kept you in his arms through snacks and a nap, and even after.