Mila Wilson is quiet, anxious and a little bit of a mess. Panic attacks have ruled her life for as long as she can remember - but starting college is her chance to take control. Love? Not something she believes she's built for.
Then she meets Jace E...
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A shimmer of blur creeps into the lower left of my vision. My head spins harder, the world tilting as if the floor beneath me is shifting. The blur and stretches, creeping closer to the center of my sight until everything becomes a dizzy haze.
"I—Everything's blurry," I gasp, clutching at the edge of a chair to steady myself.
Jace is at my side in an instant, panic sharpening his voice. "What? What do you mean?"
"Aura migraines," I manage, waving a trembling hand before my face as though that might clear the growing fog or ease the tightness closing in on my throat.
His hand flies to his hair, raking through it in frustration. "What the fuck is that? Do you need help?"
"No," I say quickly, my voice unsteady. "It's stress. It'll pass. I just need to calm down..." I trail off, the words hitching in my throat as my body betrays me.
He lets out a long breath, the tension in his frame loosening just slightly, though his worry remains etched deep.
It's been so long since I've had one of these. The last time was a year ago—an entire week plagued by them. Stress triggers it. Always, it starts with this—vision narrowing, dizziness, followed by the splitting migraine.
As I stand there trembling, Jace helps me slip out of my jacket, his touch surprisingly gentle. Gratefully, I peel off my sweater too, letting the cool air wrap around my clammy skin.
"Come on," he murmurs, his voice a soft anchor amidst the rising tide of panic. "Let's get you to bed."
Tears sting my eyes—born of frustration, embarrassment, fear. I hate that he has to see me like this, raw and unraveling. "Hey, don't cry," he whispers, cupping my chin tenderly before fetching a pair of his sweatpants. "Take those jeans off, love. You'll be more comfortable."
I obey, moving slowly, slipping into the softness of his clothes. I sit back on the bed, heart racing, eyes flicking back and forth as though sheer will might force everything to return to normal.
"Come here," he says again, drawing me into the bed beside him, pulling the blanket around us like a shield. His arms encircle me, firm and warm, his voice a murmur against my temple. "Close your eyes."
I do as he says, though my body trembles still. "I'm so sorry," I whisper, my voice breaking under the weight of my shame.
"Don't be stupid," he mumbles back, tightening his hold as though he can bind me back together with the strength of his arms alone.
The next thing I know, the world has slipped away into sleep. When I wake, the bed is empty. I blink against the light, my vision miraculously clear but the heavy, familiar ache settling in behind my eyes. I sit up, scanning the room. Jace is in the kitchen, his back to me as he stirs something on the stove. Relief loosens the knot in me, and I push off the bed, padding toward him. Without a word, I wrap my arms around his waist from behind, pressing my face against his back.
