“he comes from a good family,” your mother continues, “and frankly, after all the... embarrassment with aerion over the years, you should be grateful someone like valarr still wants to marry you.”

that does it.

your fork clatters against the plate, making both of them look at you.

“what?” your mother asks.

you open your mouth but nothing comes out.

“we just think,” your father interjects carefully, mistaking your silence for irritation instead of panic, “it could be a great step toward great things for the future.”

your heartbeat spikes so hard it almost hurts.

“sweetheart?” your mother says slowly, but you can barely hear her over the sound your chair makes when the legs screech against the hardwood floor. “i can’t do this right now.”

your words make your mother sigh immediately. “here we go.”

“i said i can’t-”

“you’re being dramatic.”

you can hear your pulse in your ears now, already backing away from the table, your hands trembling violently. “i need... i need just a moment, please-”

you stumble out before either of them can stop you, slamming the door as gently as you can behind you. and then you’re outside, bent over on the porch, gasping. the night air should help but it doesn’t. your lungs just won’t cooperate.

you barely remember getting into your car, barely remember driving, only that somehow, impossibly, you end up at the trailer park. at aerion’s, because your body knows where to go long before your pride does.

there’s a part of you that feels a wave of relief when you see the porch light on his trailer is still on. you don’t even make it to the steps before your knees nearly buckle, then his screen door bangs open.

“hey baby? what the fuck happened?”

you try to answer but again, nothing comes out except a broken gasp.

his entire expression changes instantly to alarmed. “hey, hey-”

“i’m sorry. i’m sorry. i just can’t think. i can’t breathe,” you whisper.

he swears softly under his breath. “okay. okay, c’mere.”

you barely realize he’s touching you before he’s guiding you down onto the porch steps with him crouched in front of you. his hands are rough and warm around your wrists, grounding without squeezing too hard. “look at me,” he says firmly.

you can’t. your eyes squeeze shut as another wave hits you. “i can’t right now-”

“yes you can.” his voice sharpens just enough to cut through the spiral. “look at me, baby.”

you force your eyes open and he is right there, worried in a way you almost never see.

“there y’are. breathe with me,” he mutters quickly, brushing hair out of your face with shaky fingers. and so you try but it catches halfway.

“i can’t.”

“you can.” his hand presses flat against your chest lightly. “slow. don’t gulp air like that, you’re makin’ it worse.”

your breath stutters painfully, tears spill down your cheeks out of pure frustration. “i can’t do this anymore,” you choke out.

“i know. i know, honey.” he says it immediately, instinctively, even though he clearly does not know what’s happening. he glances around once like he’s trying to think, then grabs your hands and presses them flat against his chest.

“feel that?” your palms shake against him. “my heartbeat’s slower than yours,” he says. “match me.”

you stare at him so he nods once, firm. “in.” he breathes in deeply. “out.” slow exhale.

again and again and again.

so you try and follow him, do as he is doing, and eventually the horrible crushing feeling in your chest eases just enough for air to actually reach your lungs again. but that only allows you to break down immediately after.

you fold forward into him with this awful shattered sob, aerion catches you automatically. you cry against his shoulder while he holds you on the porch, the whole world has narrowed down to just keeping you together.

“they won’t stop,” you sob. “they won’t stop talking about marriage and futures and i can’t... i can’t think anymore-”

“you don’t gotta decide shit tonight.” he pulls back just enough to look at you.

“they act like my life’s already over if i don’t marry him.”

his jaw tightens immediately at your words, just the thought of it. any mention of you marrying his cousin sends a spike of pure jealousy and ache each and every time. “fuck that.”

you laugh weakly through tears. he wipes under your eyes with his thumb awkwardly, clearly not used to handling crying this intense. “you scared the hell outta me,” he mutters.

“m’sorry, aerion.”

“don’t apologize.” he says it so fast it almost overlaps with your words. “everything’s okay.” his voice is rough around the edges, quieter now.

you shake your head immediately. “it’s not though.”

“right now it is.” his thumb brushes under your eye again. “you’re breathin’ again fine...”

barely. but you nod anyway.

aerion exhales slowly, relieved you answered or confirmed that you are. he leans back slightly on the porch step beside you, forearms resting on his knees for a second before he glances over again, checking your face like he doesn’t fully trust you not to break apart.

“you wanna tell me what happened?” he asks finally.

you stare out at the trailer park instead of him. at the flickering porch lights, the distant sound of someone’s tv through thin walls, the chirp of crickets in the humid dark.

“my parents wanted to talk about valarr tonight.”

his whole body stills beside you. you can feel it happen. every muscle in him locks up at once.

“and?”

you swallow hard. “they kept talking about weddings. mine specifically.”

aerion looks down at the gravel for a long second, face unreadable now in that dangerous way he gets sometimes, where he goes completely still instead of angry.

“he ask you?” he says finally.

you shake your head quickly. “no. not officially.”

“but he’s gonna.”

you press your lips together. aerion lets out a sharp breath through his nose and leans back, scrubbing both hands down his face. “jesus christ.”

then softly, almost embarrassed by it, you whisper, “i was scared.”

his head turns slowly. “of what?”

“all of it.” your voice cracks again. “them deciding my whole life for me. me waking up one day and realizing i just... let it happen.”

aerion stares at you. he knows exactly what it feels like to think your life’s already decided for you. trailer park. dead-end jobs. like the future came pre-written before you were even old enough to want something else.

“you’re not trapped yet,” he says quietly.

you laugh weakly. “feels like it.”

“nah.” he shakes his head immediately. “don’t say that.”

his thumb rubs slowly across your knuckles. “you don’t gotta figure it out tonight,” he repeats softly.

“baby,” he says softly, “hey, hey... thought you were all cried out?” he mutters quickly when your breathing starts hitching again.

he pulls you against him before you can protest, your cheek pressing into his chest, his arms wrapping around you tight and warm and grounding. you hear his heartbeat under your ear.