You felt horrible and you knew, you just KNEW, one of your damn panic attacks were coming on. You hugged yourself tightly, pulling your blanket tightly around yourself, body shaking and your stomach and chest twisted into painful and sickening knots. Your whimpered and tried to fight tears that stung at the backs of your eyes and your vision blurred.
Your breath came in short, hyperventilating gasps and you felt so scared. You tried to disappear into the couch, the cool material seeming like ice against bits of exposed skin. The living room seemed to close around you, tightening and constricting. Mark had just finished recording when your attack struck you and he had just come down the stairs into the living room, smiling cheerfully.
“Hey, (Y/N), I–” When he had moved into the living room, he heard your clipped breaths and saw how you had curled up into a fetal position, shaking hard. “(Y/N), Oh God.” He rushed over to you, sweeping you tightly into his arms. “Sh, baby, its okay. Its okay, I’m here, I’m here.” He soothed. You gripped tightly onto his shirt. “Please don’t go, Mark. Please don’t go, I-I’m scared.” He rocked you back and forth, rubbing your back.
“I won’t, (Y/N), I won’t, honey. I promise, I’ll never leave. It’s okay, it’s okay.” You shook and hyperventilated, sobbing loudly. You felt like you were dying. This is what dying had to feel like. He pressed you close to his body, his heartbeat thumping soothingly in your ears. He also slowed his breathing, making sure yours could fall in line with his. Your vision was blurred with tears and you couldn't focus. "H-help, I'm d-dying!" You choke out. "Baby, you're not dying, it's okay." He mumbled, continuing to rock you.
He mumbled ‘It’s okay’ over and over again, cooing softly. Soon, you managed to calm down, sobs turning into hiccups and sniffles.
When you finally had completely calmed down, you looked up at Mark through blurry eyes, your nose pink tipped and your eyes puffy and half lidded. “Thank you…”
You mumbled, still clinging tightly to his shirt. He chuckled, the vibrations from it soothing. “No problem. I hate seeing you upset.” He kissed you softly, hand gently cupping your cheek, his thumb rubbing circles on your cheek. When he pulled away, he rested his forehead on yours. “You okay now?”
“You make everything better.” You mumble softly. And it was true. Mark was your home and your anchor.