☆ BABY ☆ { Rhea Ripley }

Chapter Eight

Out of all the things I could have a panic attack about, this time the cause was dinner. Not just dinner but having to socialise more when I clearly had enough interactions today to leave me overwhelmed.

I walk around my room, trying the five four three two one method in order to calm down. It never works so I don't know why I keep trying but I have to do something.

I can't breathe. Like literally can't breathe. I clutch my chest and take big gulps trying to swallow the air but nothing happens. I feel like I'm running out of air and dying.

My hands and knees are shaking so much I have to sit down on the floor in fear of falling. I can barely see in front of me from all the tears that have gathered in my eyes and I feel like my skin is burning. Not in the good way.

I need help, I know I need help because I feel like I'm gonna pass out and at this point no one will probably realise.

I take my phone in my trembling hands and type a message to the only person here whose number I have.

Me: Rgea

Me: Vome hrre

Me: Pleasw

Not twenty seconds later I hear a few knocks on my door. I don't have it in me to move but force myself to crawl to the door and open it.

The second it's open, I look up to see a beautiful Rhea. She changed out of her shorts and is now wearing black jeans with a black, leather top. Her eyes, which I can barely see from down here, have eyeliner on them and her lips are painted black. Wowza.

"What's wrong?" She asks me, taking a few steps inside my room and shutting the door behind her.

"I-" I point to the middle of my chests to show her that I can't breathe. I don't know if she understands what I mean.

"Come here, baby," she sits on my bed and pats her thigh. I comply and move so I'm sitting down right beside her but on the floor.

"B-Baby?" I stutter. She called me baby! Wow I love that nickname!!!!! She called me babyyyyyyy!

No, that doesn't mean anything and I don't even like her like that so why do I care? Right.

I am snapped out of my thoughts when two strong hands grab me from under my armpits and pull me up to sit on her lap. She places me so I'm sat on her thigh sideways but right now if I want to calm down I need a hug so I turn around and straddle her, pushing my head in her neck and my arms around it.

"Yes. Baby," I blush at her words if that's even possible right now and shove my head further into her neck.

She rubs soothing circles up and down my back and rocks us back and forth until I can finally feel the air enter my lungs again.

Phew. That was scary. At the realisation, I start crying, hard. If I were in the right headspace I would have cared but I really don't. Right now, all I want is to stay like this forever.

"Do you want to tell me what's wrong? You don't have to but you were like this before too," she says, her hand's movements never stopping.

"I- I have social anxiety. I have gotten used to interactions so nothing much happens when I'm in public but when I am back to being alone, it's like a switch flips and I feel all those bad emotions so much that they push me into a panic attack. It's like I'm overstimulated in the worst way possible. I'm sorry I called you here," I explain, multiple sniffles escaping me in the process . I don't know what part of me thought this would be a good idea but I can't take it all back now.