It always started in my chest, an overwhelming sensation that had both a lightness and heaviness to it that is hard to put into words. My heartbeat would start to quicken, my lungs start to constrict, making breathing both more difficult and less automatic; I would have to almost remind myself to breathe rather than just let it happen naturally. Goosebumps would set in just as the room would start to spin, the lightheadedness coming on so fast I wouldn't have time to prepare.
Breathe. I would remind myself. Name five things you can hear.
The sound of our breathing. The commotion of the party inside. The noise of the city beyond the small alley where we stood. The soft click of my heels on the pavement as I shifted my weight. The rush of blood in my own ears.
Five things you can see.
The darkness beneath my own lids. As my eyes fluttered open, I caught a glimpse of short bleached hair. A set of blue-grey eyes. Two strong arms stretched out on either side of my head, leaning against the cement wall behind me, blocking me in. A small smirk that made my heart race even faster.
Five things you can feel.
The chill in the air. A warm body pressed up against mine. A steady heartbeat under my palm. My dress riding up as a gentle hand slid up my leg. My soul crying out for more.
Five things you can smell.
Cologne. A mix of food and cleaning supplies; the kitchen door wasn't far and the catering staff was most likely still tidying up from supper. Alcohol; sparkling wine but with a hint of something stronger. Vermouth. Spearmint gum. And finally, a smell so intoxicating it had me breathing through my mouth as if I could taste it.
Which brings us to...Five things you can taste.
I really only needed to think of one. As their lips connected with mine, I inhaled their scent again, shivering as all the symptoms of my anxiety attack dissipated. In that moment, I knew I was addicted. The only sensation I needed, the only taste I ever wanted on my tongue ever again.
Emma.
