For @mizz-lady, who requested 2, 6, 9, and 17
He looks at me, eyes wide with concern. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t know.” I’m breathing hard, my hand pressed against my sternum. My heart is beating so much harder than normal, and I’m not sure what’s going on.
“Your heart is racing.” He presses his fingers against the pulse at my wrist, and then shifts up to my throat to press against my carotid artery. “Why is your heart beating so fast?”
I fall to my knees, dizzy. I feel like I’m going to pass out. “I-I don’t know. My heart feels like its beating out of my chest.”
He darts into his bedroom, bringing out a medkit. I knew he had one, given his profession, but seeing it brought me both anxiety and arousal.
“Deep breaths for me, sweetheart,” he drawls, but the grin that flickers over his lips rings hollow. “You’re okay.”
He doesn’t say a word, just takes my hand and holds it against his sternum. I can feel his heart beathing slow and steady beneath my palm, and he instructs me to breathe as he presses his hand to mine. “Breathe, it’s just a panic attack. Focus on my heartbeat and try to get yours to match mine.”
I close my eyes and gasp. “Can you feel my heart racing?”
“I can, but you’re doing okay,” he says patiently. “Just breathe for me.”
For a little while, it works. I begin to calm down, and my chest doesn’t feel quite so tight. I throw my head back, feeling like I can breathe again, until I feel the stethoscope press against my chest. “There you go, slow and steady. Your heart is already starting to even out.”
I weakly nod and lean into his arms as he wraps them around me, quietly comforting me and listening to the sound of my heart.
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