His breathing was wrong—shallow, rapid, struggling. His fingers dug deeper into his own skin, shaking so hard that his whole frame trembled under the weight of something I couldn't see. Something I couldn't fight.
But he could see it.
And it was killing him.
"Hey—" I tried again, my voice barely above a whisper.
His head snapped up.
And that's when I saw it—
Terror.
Raw, consuming terror.
Not the kind you feel in the moment. The kind you carry with you. The kind that never really leaves.
Then—the footsteps.
Slow. Measured. Deliberate.
I turned.
And there he was.
A man.
Not someone I recognized. But he did.
Because his body went rigid.
Like something inside him had just been ripped open.
The man didn't speak.
Didn't move.
Just watched.
And somehow, that was worse.
I could feel it—the shift. The way his body tensed, how his breath caught in his throat. His eyes locked onto the man like he was seeing a ghost.
I moved closer to him, crouching in front of him, trying to get him to look at me. See me.
"Hey, it's okay. You're here. You're safe. Just breathe."
He didn't blink. Didn't hear me.
The blood from his arm dripped onto the floor, but he didn't react to it. Didn't react to anything.
Like his body was here, but his mind was somewhere else.
I reached for him, my fingers barely grazing his wrist—
Nothing.
Not even a flinch.
I swallowed.
"You're okay. Just focus on my voice, okay? It's not real, it's just—"
The man moved.
A step.
Small. Barely anything.
But something in the way he did it—calm. Casual. Icy.
I didn't turn.
I didn't need to.
Because I felt it faster than I could process—
The moment he snapped back.
His breath hitched.
His pupils shrank.
And suddenly, he was moving.
Fast.
Before I even understood what was happening, his hand gripped my wrist—tight, almost painful—and yanked me back, behind him. He stood between me and that man.
Blockingmefromtheview.
His body—still shaking, still bleeding—stood rigid, shielding me.
Like I was the one in danger.
Like he wasn't the one falling apart.
Like whatever was coming—
He was going to take it first.