Anonymous

65

The phone clattered to the floor with a loud bang. It might've broken. If she was in the right headspace, Bonnie would've checked, but right now, she couldn't move. Didn't even know if she was breathing. Everything was just frozen.

"Are you okay?"

Marceline calling from the kitchen. Bonnie opened her mouth to respond, but all that came out was a strangled little gasp.

It was like opening her mouth had opened her up to everything else, and everything that had frozen unfroze at the exact same time. All of the breaths she should've been taking came out in one but none of it did her any good, because none of the air felt like it could reach her lungs, none of it could get past the knot in her throat. No. Bonnie knew what was happening, and it was like she was panicking about panicking as well as everything else. She hadn't had an attack like this in years, and it was as though every single worry she'd ever had between this and the last panic attack were coming back with a vengeance.

She was on the floor, hands gripping carpet in an effort to feel something outside of this. She didn't know how she got down there, didn't remember falling or sitting or anything. Her head felt heavy. Or was it light? All she knew was that she didn't know anything. Just panic. Just pure, unadulterated panic.

Hands on hers made her jump. They were soft but not at the same time. Was she crying? She went to move her hand to check but remembered someone was holding them. She choked on another breath, but this time instead of silent panic, a loud sob escaped.

"Bonnie, hey, it's okay," Fingers threaded through hers properly, and she heard Marceline's gentle, melodic voice, "come on, Bon. Look at me. Don't think about anything else. Look at me."

Bonnie let out another sound. This time it was half a sob and half a whimper, some attempt at vocalisation that got lost in all the panic. Her breath caught in her throat again, and this time, she felt a hand on her cheek, a gentle, calloused thumb wiping away the tears.

"Just open your eyes, Bonnie. That's all I want." Marceline said, her voice so soft. Fingers were in her hair now, and Bonnie didn't know if she'd ever felt a touch so gentle. "Open your eyes and look at me."

Bonnie listened. Despite everything, despite the worries swirling around in her head, despite the fact that she just couldn't get a breath to stick, she listened. Slowly, her eyes opened, and all she saw was beautiful green.

"There she is," Marceline smiled, her fingers still weaving their way through strawberry blonde hair, "Have I ever told you how pretty your eyes are? I mean, you're entirely pretty, but I really love your eyes."

Love. Girlfriend. Homophobia. Parents. Phone. Bonnie's thoughts went exactly like that, and her breath caught in her throat again, another strangled sob escaping. She wanted to close her eyes again. Wanted to just ride it out, let the panic wreak its havoc on her the way it always had. It hurt, it always did, but there was never any alternative.

"Hey, hey, I've got you," Marceline's arms were around her now, and Bonnie felt something strange. Almost safe. "You know, as the best singer to ever grace the surface of this planet, I know some pretty good breathing exercises. Want to try with me? They'll get you ready for your next performance. I was serious when I said I wanted you to sing with me."

Bonnie nodded quite hysterically. Anything. Anything if it would help her just breathe.

"Okay, just follow my breathing, alright? We're going to go in," Marceline breathed in, and Bonnie forced herself to copy, her hands gripping tightly to Marceline's t-shirt, "and out. Big breath in... and big breath out."

She was hyperaware of all the bad thoughts in her head, and the way the phone was lying right there on the floor, only a few feet away. She forced herself to look away from it, to just look into Marceline's beautiful green eyes and follow her breathing. She clung onto her girlfriend like she was her lifeline – frankly, in that moment, she was – and found comfort in the way Marceline's arms were around her, not too tight but tight enough to reassure her that she was there.