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“Chris! Christopher.” His voice was gritty and I knew that I was frightening him. He grabbed my face in his hands and forced my gaze to him. “Look at me. Look! At! Me!”
I focused on his green eyes, trying to use them to ground me, to bring me back to the here and now.
“That’s right,” he said in a soft tone, trying to bring me back to him. “Focus on me. That’s right.” He took a deep breath, puffing his chest out for a short moment until letting it go. “Breathe with me.” He repeated the action, waiting for me to copy his movements.
I nodded my head and took a deep breath with him, holding it for three seconds and letting it out.
“That’s right,” he said in a supportive tone. He carried on doing the deep breathing exercises with me. “Keep going.”
I reached up and grabbed him beneath his elbows, using him to anchor me. If there was one person that could support me through this, it’s probably a good thing that it was Luke with me right now. Thomas would have lost the plot and been unable to get me to calm down and Lauren would have most likely become a sobbing mess as she watched me spiral out of control.
“One more time.” He took a deep breath and I followed suit.
I could feel my breathing begin to slow and as the panic began to subside, I felt only one emotion remain. Embarrassment. I was mortified of how I had acted and what his friends must be thinking of me now.
“Good, Christopher.” He moved his hands down until they were holding me on each side of my neck. “Look at me.”
I looked straight past him, staring at the wall behind him. I didn’t want to feel embarrassed but I was. I knew that panic and anxiety attacks were par for the course with PTSD but I still fucking hated it.
“I said,” he began in a firmer tone, “look at me.” He tilted my face to his and I gave in. “How long have you been hiding these?” He raised his eyebrows at me, waiting for a response. “Huh? Have you been having these panic attacks for long?”
“Not long,” I whispered. “I have had a couple. None as bad as that one.”
He relaxed his shoulders when I said that. He had been worrying I had been shouldering it alone and hiding things.
“Was it the noise?” he asked. “The sound of the music? Or was it the people?” He waited for me to answer but I couldn’t give an accurate answer.
“I don’t know.” I tried to drop my gaze but the way that he was holding my head was making that impossible. “Everything, I guess… The music, the bass, the number of bodies…” I blew out a breath, feeling frustrated. “Then pretty girl dropped her drink and I—”
“Pretty girl, huh?” he asked with a smirk.
“Everyone was watching,” I continued, “and I just…” I stopped talking, not sure what else I could say.
“Don’t worry about that. Isobel is just a klutz.” I chuckled when he said that. “Back there wasn’t your fault. I think she thought you were calling her a tart.”
“I didn’t call her a tart!” I quickly defended before it all clicked. “I meant that the wine was tart. It’s a wine term.”
“Iknow that.” He laughed. “I am a barman, you know.” I rolled my eyes at him when he said that. “But Isobel obviously…”
“Didn’t,” I said, finishing for him.
“No.” He tapped his palm against my neck before he nodded his head past me. “Speak of the devil…”
I turned around and saw her standing at the end of the corridor. I wondered how long she had been standing there and how much of my meltdown she had witnessed. “Is everything okay?” she asked. She fidgeted on the spot as she stared at us, wringing her hands together.
“Of course it is.” Luke slung his arm around my shoulder as he began to steer us toward her. “Just a bit of boy talk.” He gave her a wink and I could see she instantly relaxed at his words.
“Can I talk to Christopher?” she asked. “I’ll bring him straight in.”
Luke looked at me and when I gave him a brief nod, he squeezed my arm and stepped away from me. “Don’t keep him too long, darling.” He gave her a small smile and grasped her hand in his, squeezing her fingers gently.
“Okay, Luke,” she whispered. She waited for him to go and as he disappeared out of sight she took a step closer to me, bridging the gap between us before we spoke.
“I’m sorry,” we both said at the same time. We both laughed at how in sync with each other we were.
“You go first,” I said, waving my hand for her to continue.
“I just wanted to say that I was sorry, Christopher.”
