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Fuck, I'm gonna be sick.
Nervously, I chewed at my bottom lip until it hurt as the feeling of dread pulled me under. I needed to calm myself down before I'd go into a full-blown panic attack, which was ridiculous because I shouldn't be this anxious about Stepan going out.
"Fucking hell." I snarled, shooting off the couch onto my feet to pace around like a madwoman.
Stepan had his gear on, so he was mostly protected. He knew what he was doing; he was a pro. I shouldn't worry, especially since this was probably the thousandth time he's done something like this. Also, he'd be away from most of the action because he always stuck afar to snipe; he never went into the fray unless necessary.
So, why am I so anxious!?
I shouldn't be having a panic attack over this. Never have, never should.
I heaved my tightening chest as breathing became harder and harder. I needed to calm down, but I couldn't, not with how the room shrunk and spun. My body fell onto the couch after I stumbled and tripped over my own two feet.
I can't breathe, why can't I breathe? Why can't I feel my hands? Or my feet? Did someone poison me?
"…Nna… H…Nna…" The airy voice sounded so distant that I couldn't decipher whether it was real or not.
Instinctively, my mouth opened in a cry for help, but nothing came out but whimpers. Help, I needed help.
Someone, help me, please!
Pressure surrounded me suddenly, and I could feel my body being rocked—or maybe it was me shaking. "Shh, you're okay. Breathe." The lighter male voice sounded real enough.
"Keep holding her, the medication should kick into effect any moment." Was it the same voice? No, very similar, but something about this voice sounded more somber than the first.
"Hanna, you gotta breathe or you're going to pass out." It was the first voice again, this time softer.
"Arseny, you're squeezing her too tightly, she can't breathe you idiot." No wonder the voices sounded familiar.
"Shut up, she's calming down." Arseny's face came more into focus as my panic subsided.
Drifting my eyes over to the shadow next to me, I made out the other twin—Alexei—with a needle in hand. "What'd you give me?" Whatever it was, it kicked my ass.
"Same thing I gave you last time you had a total panic attack, valium. Which by the way, you're welcome." Alexei answered with an unbothered shrug of his shoulders before shifting around to sit on the couch.
"Wow, where's your compassion doctor?" Arseny bit out sarcastically, rolling his eyes as he released me and settled me comfortably on the couch.
Once again, Alexei replied unbothered, "It's there when it needs to be." The psychopathic doctor; I would say it was a joke, but it wasn't.
Believe it or not, the youngest Volkovs were certified psychopaths. Initially, I was surprised, but after I saw how they were overly charming, arrogant, manipulative, and sadistic—combined with their gross lack of empathy—I understood. Now, I still find it ironic how Alexei's a doctor given his psychopathy because I always imagined doctors needed a good amount of empathy to function successfully in their profession, but Angel said something about Alexei faking enough remorse and empathy to pass way under the radar. Although, psychopath or not, Alexei was one hell of a doctor—err surgeon.
"What are you two doing here?" Wow, I felt sluggish and wondered if my words even came out coherently enough.
"Stepan asked us to come over and keep you company and to make sure you're in bed around 1 AM," Arseny replied in his usual playful voice.
The more time I spent around the twins, the more of their little nuisances I picked up. Granted, I still couldn't tell them apart half the time unless Alexei wore his scrubs or white coat. Still, between the two of them, Arseny was outwardly more charming and playful than Alexei, always having this little uptick to his voice that made him sound just a tad happier, almost while Alexei had a more serious undertone to him.
Huffing out a pouting whimper, I looked up lazily at Arseny, "I'm not a child, I don't need to be babysat."
"Well, if we weren't here then you might have gone into a mental crisis." Alexei pointed out with a dour expression. "Why were you even having a panic attack in the first place? It's been months since your last one."
"I don't know." I instantly replied in a nearly slurred manner. "It just came on before I knew it."
"What were you thinking about?" Great, just what I needed tonight, Alexei playing shrink.
"I wanna sleep." I deadpanned, not wanting to engage with Alexei tonight—or ever—on the subject of my mental health.
"Then sleep, makes our job easier." Alexei remarked with a—failed—repressed smirk.
