This isn't weird.

How To Help

"You certainly feel ready," he whispered slyly, feeling her squirm in his grasp as his fingers crept beneath her panties. "But of course... I can stop, if you're not." He started to draw his hand back, but she grabbed his wrist and let out a pleading whimper.

"Please," she begged.

"Please what?"

"Please, don't stop, please..."

"If you insist," Ben replied with a smirk, and his fingers resumed their teasing. He pulled down the strap of her dress and slowly kissed along her shoulder. "I want to do this to you every day, Millie."

His touch moved a little faster.

"You want that to, don't you, sweetheart?"

Faster still.

"Yes!" Millie gasped. "Oh god, Ben, yes—yes—"

As her body began to spasm, his left hand clamped against her mouth to muffle her screams. "Good girl," he murmured into her ear. When her cries subsided, he turned her around to face him. "Just keep saying yes, Millie." He tilted her chin up toward himself and kissed her softly. "Keep saying yes, and we can both be very happy..."

Millie looked up at him, still trembling with aftershocks of pleasure. "I do want to, Ben," she whispered, her eyes apologetic. "You know I want you."

"Then what's stopping us?" A sudden intensity flashed in his eyes. "I'm right here, Millie, we're both right here, and I want you, too, more than I've ever wanted anything in my life—"

"Ben, I—" Millie started to draw back, but he pulled her in closer.

"We should be together, Millie," he insisted. "We're supposed to be together. I know it, and I know you know it, so why should we run from it? What are you so afraid of?"

"I—I just—a lot of things, Ben—"

He tightened his hold on her. "Like what? I know I make you happy—"

Millie's voice raised sharply. "You don't know what I went through!" she shouted, beginning to struggle against his grasp. Suddenly, she was starkly aware of how much stronger he was than her, but this time, there was no excitement to the thought—only terror.

"What you went through—what are you talking about, Millie?" Ben asked, trying to keep her still long enough to look into her face. "What don't I know?"

"I was there," she choked out, barely managing to get out the words . "I didn't—you didn't even—you said that—you said—and then you—I was still there, I was there, I was there—" Overcome by the sensation of being trapped, her breath seemed suddenly frozen in her lungs. "I can't—I can't think straight—" Her face went pale as she gasped for breath that her lungs couldn't find.

Seeing the panic wash over her face, Ben realized with horror that he had her completely restrained. Mortified by his own obliviousness, he let go of her at once. "I'm sorry!" he exclaimed, frantic with regret. "Oh god, I didn't mean to—"

Millie stumbled back, clutching her chest as its violently breathless heaves escalated to full blown hyperventilation. She fell against the back of the couch and crumpled to the ground. Ben tried to reach for her, to help her up, but she flailed away from his touch like a frightened animal.

"I'm sorry!" he cried again. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have pushed you, please, please, calm down, Millie, stop, please, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm not going to hurt you, Millie, please!"

The growing distress in his pleas only fed her panic. She clamped her hands over her ears, trying to drown out a noise he couldn't hear. Her eyes were haunting, unnervingly wide and unfathomably distant. It was as if the real Millie had vanished, leaving behind nothing but her fear in an otherwise empty husk.

"Millie, please, tell me what to do! I don't know how to help you!" Ben begged, but it was no use. In a state of complete desperation, he could only think of one thing to do. Her phone was nearby on the coffee table—still no lock screen. He searched her contacts for the only person he was sure could help, and called.

It only had to ring once. "Millie! I was wondering when I was going to hear from you—"

"Help, please help me! She's having a panic attack—I don't know what to do, she won't let me touch her, she can't breathe—"

Arthur switched gears without missing a beat. "First—Calm. Down. She needs you to be calm, okay? Can you do that for her?"

Ben tried to steady his voice. "Y–yes. I can do that."

"Good. Okay. That's the most important part. Get on her level, sit with her—don't touch her if she doesn't want to be touched. Just make sure she knows you're there with her, that she's not alone."

Ben sat on the ground a few feet away from Millie. She didn't try to scramble away, at least. "I'm here, Millie," he said, working hard to keep his voice soft and gentle. "I'm here with you. I'm not gonna leave you, okay?" He couldn't tell if she heard him at all.

"Where are you? Are you at her apartment?" Arthur asked.

"Yes," Ben answered.

"Okay. Listen, Ben—this is going to pass," Arthur said. "It could be two minutes, it could be twenty. She just has to ride it out. Remind her to breathe. Make sure she knows she's going to be okay. And just stay calm for her, okay? You're doing great. Thank you for calling me. I can be there in five minutes."

He was there in four.

Ben threw open the door. "She's right there, behind the couch."

Arthur walked calmly past him and found Millie shaking on the floor. He sat directly next to her and took her hand; she let him touch her without even flinching.

"Everything will be okay, Millie," he told her. "It's okay to be scared right now. It won't last forever. Just keep breathing." He eased her head into his lap and rhythmically stroked her hair. His voice was impossibly soothing as he talked her through it. "Breathe in... two... three... four. Hold... two... three... four... five... six... seven. Out... two... three... four... five... six... seven... eight. You're doing amazing, Millie. Breathe in... two... three..."

Her eyes were already beginning to focus.

Ben watched from several feet away, feeling more useless than he ever thought possible. He was grateful, of course, and deeply relieved to see Millie beginning to recover, but it was painful to watch. It made him ill to see how good this man was with her, to her, how quickly he was able to bring her back to herself.

"Arthur?" he heard her voice murmur.

"There you are," Arthur said warmly. "See? You're alright. You did great." He squeezed her hand and helped her as she slowly sat up.

Millie looked down at her disheveled dress for several long seconds before slowly pulling the loose strap back over her shoulder. She looked at Ben, his hair in disarray, his shirt buttoned incorrectly.

Finally, she looked at Arthur. Sweet, patient Arthur. She opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off.

"I know, Millie," he said. "We don't have to talk about it now."

She began to cry, and he pulled her into a hug.

Ben could only watch.