Storm & Silence | FANFICTION

08. Panic

TRIGGER FUCKING WARNING - panic attacks and content about severe breathing problems (could trigger other people's breathing as well)

third-person pov

Lilly has never witnessed something like this. Never in her life did she see her husband like this. Ever.

In fact, she never witnessed an event as dispiriting as this either. Who knew Rikkard could ever be this shaken up. So... startled, so... dismayed, for absolutely no bloody reason.

What happened to him?

"Rikkard..." Lilly called him calmy as his trembling head lay on her lap.

He didn't respond; he stilled on her lap, weeping as silent as he could without worrying his wife further.

"Rikkard, please. I'm not deaf. I can hear you crying on me," she tried to lighten the mood with a weak joke, though it did not phase him at all. His hands stayed curled, clutching each other, making his knuckles appear white.

Lilly noticed to her belief and rested her hands on them, attempting to relax. Eventually, they settled only a little bit.

"It's nearly midnight, and you woke me up, crying. I never hear you cry. Is there anything I can do? Is your wallet lost? Did you forget something at work? You're scaring me."

Eventually, Rikkard let out a sigh. Lilly's eyes widened, and she glanced down to see his expression blank again. But she didn't miss the rings around his eyes and the tears threatening to spill out also.

"I'll give you time to tell me. But I need to know what happened, or else you're going to the doctors."

    "No."

    Those words made her smile in relief, "thought so."

Moments of soothing but disquieting silence passed. Lilly would always wait for Rikkard.

"Could you... could you maybe help me breathe a little bit?" Rikkard asked, inclining his head to face upward, gazing at her emotionless face.

    "Rikkard, are you having a panic attack?" Lilly urged, afraid.

"Not the right question to ask right now, honey," his breathing got heavier as tears plummeted down. But, his face remained still as he tried his best to rest his rapid heartbeat.

Now it was her turn to be shaken up. She did not know how to help someone with anxiety, better yet, panic attacks. She's had some herself, but it always takes a while to get rid of them.

"Uh, okay. Tell me your five favorite things in the world, I guess."

"You, you, you, you, and money."

She looked down at him and smiled, bending down to peck his forehead and whisper, 'it's going to be okay,' to him after feeling his chest rise and fall at an abnormally accelerated pace.

"Tell me your favorite things to do,"

"Be with you."

"And?"

"That's all."

"Seriously, Rikkard?"

"Always, my Lillian."

Lilly only retained this method. Distracting. When someone is in the midst of extreme stress and severe breathing problems, the best way to help them is to divert the topic of their breathing.

Ask them questions, talk aimlessly about the most random thing—anything to ease them.

It's working. Lilly proceeded to ask him questions on and on, either about food, work, herself, himself, etcetera.