Adult Content Warning
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Summary
You found him on the floor of the bathroom, chest heaving, skin tight against his collarbone. His body let off streaks of steam from the tense muscles, his neck and back clearly straining with some sort of stress. He had one quivering hand curled into the fabric of his newly-donned shirt, his eyes scanning every entrance - or exit, as he later told you he was looking for - biting his tongue. With how his hand had dug into the skin of his chest, you could only have a guess that there was an ache there, that he couldn't catch his breath. A panic attack.
You'd sat beside him that night, slowly, as though dealing with a timid animal. One of your hands moved to clasp his loosely, your thumb stroking over his knuckles, over the toughened skin and scars, over the callouses that rooted themselves deep in his palm as you pulled that hand away from his chest to give him space to breathe. You watched his lungs slowly draw in air again, free from the cage of his grasp.
"Leon, honey, what's up?" you murmured, bringing his other hand into yours.
It took a moment for him to answer.