Octavius

vi

FINLEY

"I-I.. I made the drink and I... I... g-gave it to him and C-constance... she told me not to t-talk to them, and I didn't! I s-swear I didn't, but... but he started making me feel really really nervous b-by saying weird things. I d-didn't want to disappoint Constance because I told h-her I would do it. And then... and then," Tears burned my eyes, my lower lips trembling as I summarized the story for Mr. Darhk.

        "Sh." He wiped a lone tear with the pad of his thumb, soft fingers brushing against the shell of my ear. "Rallenta. Stop crying. Tell me."

        (Slow down)

I nodded, suppressing a sniffle. "I.. I didn't.. I didn't want to talk to him but I-I didn't w-want to be rude, you know? So.. so I just nodded." I tried to wipe the hot tears from my eyes with my fingers, failing to suppress a sob.

"T-then he.. he poured t-the drink on me, and then everyone c-could see my.. my bra underneath! It was so embarrassing because I didn't like how he.. he was l-looking at me. Everyone... everyone could see-"

        Then the tears broke through my barrier and without warning, they coursed down my cheeks and painted my shirtsleeve wet as I tried to wipe the frantic tears aside. I didn't even understand why I was crying,

        I hated the fact that I couldn't stop crying, I hated the fact that crying was my release yet my torment as well.

        I was such an inept. I was useless. No wonder Papa didn't want me anymore.

        I clenched a fistful of Mr. Darhk's massive jacket, my hands wrapped so tightly around the cloth that my nails dug into my palms.

        Breathing was hard. Breathing felt hard. Really hard.

        As if I had just ran the London Marathon. I could feel my whole body seizing, and it felt like I was literally choking on my own intake of breath.

        I felt trapped like a visitor in my own body, overwhelmed by the feeling of  being underwater in the ocean, just below the surface with nothing under me and no way to get up for air.

        No. No. I need to get out.

        "Sh," His low, masculine voice cooed into my ear, warm calloused fingers swept my curls aside. "Respirare. Breathe with me."

(Breathe)

        I couldn't. I couldn't breathe. Such a trivial word yet I couldn't carry out the simple action. My hands began to feel clammy, my eyes burned with tears. I could feel my heartbeat sped up, taking flight only for my chest to weigh me down and fall and drown, into the ocean of despair.

        The look on Mr. Darhk's tranquil face slowly faded into one of worry. My body shook furiously, shivers running down my spine and left my toes curled. If I didn't calm down soon, I'd eventually pass out.

        I had done it before.

        I couldn't count how many times I had worked myself up so much that I passed out.