Page 64 of Lust


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Leaving me on the other side.

Making me wonder... if I'll ever have her in my arms again.

Chapter 22

Clarissa

Ican'tbreathe.

God, I can't breathe.

I grip the side of the tub and try to drag the breath into my lungs, but it's like nothing moves past my throat. My heart thumps in my chest, sweat dripping from every pore.

Breathe, goddamit, you have to fucking breath, Clarissa.

I grab the bottle of bottle wash on the side of the tub and fling it at the dressing table.

The mirror shatters into a million pieces, just the way I want it to, trying to shock my brain out of the anxiety attack that has just sprung on me.

Breathe.

Why can't I just breathe?

Waking up and seeing Matthias's arms around me triggered something in my brain and cranked it into overdrive.

Still in the fog of sleep, I was trying to think of the last time I woke up with a man's arm around me... and then I did.

And now I can't fucking breathe.

My anxiety medication is in the drawer on my nightstand, and there's no way of going out there without him seeing me like this.

And he can never ever see me like this.

My brain pulses in my skull begging for oxygen, and I crumple to the floor, hugging my knees as I gasp.

To no avail.

There's a thumping on the door.

"Clarissa! Clarissa, are you okay?"

I just gasp in response.

The thumping turns into desperate banging. "Open the fucking door, Clarissa! Please!"

But I can't, I can't reach it. And I don't want to. He can't see me like this.

"Clarissa! I need to know you're okay!" The worry in his voice reaches inside my chest and tears at me. I don't want to be the reason he feels this way.

I drag myself to the door, reaching up and turning the knob.

"Matthias..." I groan, my mouth opens and closes like a gold fish... gasping for its last breath.

He reaches through the crack, grabbing my hand, but the door won't open any more, my body blocking it. "Oh my god, Rissie, what happened?"

It's ironic that when the brain over triggers its fight or flight, the first thing that it sacrifices is my breathing. The one thing that will help me.

Stupid, broken brain.

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