Angels And Demons

Chapter 7

Dedicated to ElisethePhangirl for being the first to comment about Nico's sweatshirt stealing habits

Trigger-anxiety attack (Is this the right time/place to put a warning?)

Legs tangled, Will's arm under Nico's neck, Nico's arm thrown over Will's waist. Will's chest rose and fell, head turned towards his lover though he was on his back.
Nico lay on his side, cuddled against Will, head turned towards the ceiling, the only white 'wall' in Will's room. Everything else was yellow. Nico glanced around the room, at the dark oak wood furniture, and metal headboard.
Nico's gaze returned to the ceiling, images of color exploding in front of his eyes, ideas of what to paint on the blank canvas above him bursting to life.
"Whatcha thinking about Death boy?" Will's gentle, melodious voice broke the comfortable silence.
"Painting." Nico's voice equally quiet, almost hesitant, his Italian accent slipping in, the boy to tired to conceal it.
"Painting what?" Will asked, wondering what type of art his boyfriend wanted to create.
"Your ceiling."
Will blinked in surprise, not expecting that answer.
"I painted mine you know."
Will's mind drifted back to when he was in his back in Nico's room, looking at the clashing black swirls against the white ceiling, blues and purples and so many other colors mixed in, tiny delicate silver stars twinkling down, and how he could almost see the wind move, swooping through the picture.
"Hold on." Will said, sitting up.
Nico whined in protest, but let the blonde get up, confusion written on his pale face. After ten minutes, Nico sat up, suddenly nervous.
"Will?" His voice was timid, uncertain. Nico got out of bed, hugging the older boy's sweatshirt tighter around himself. He quietly padded down the stairs, his vibrant white wings fluttering uselessly. "Will?" Nico's voice was small in the vast quiet, his anxiety dripping into his system like an IV. "Will?" He called for the third time, desperate. "Sunshine?" His voice wavered, and he hurried around the first floor and into the dining room looking all over, before running down the hall, and into every room, opening door after door, finding no one, until he found the door that led to the basement.
Nico's oxygen was entering his body in short gasps, the only thing managing to escape past his lips was a weak, "Will?"
Fortunately, the blonde had walked to the bottom of the stairs, multiple cans of paint in his arms and hands. He grinned up at the younger boy, smile slipping and falling to the floor as he took in the state of his boyfriend; leaning against the door frame, hands clutching the wall desperately to support himself, wings vibrating with the shaking of his body, but otherwise hanging limp, face panicked.
Will rushed up the stairs, carefully and quickly putting the paint cans down, before gathering the shaking boy in his arms. Nico collapsed against Will, the blonde almost losing balance, but a pump of his shimmering black wings, and he regained his footing.
"Nico?" The boy shifted in his arms, but made no other move.
Will wrapped his arms around Nico's thighs, and Nico, getting the message, wrapped his legs around Will's waist, and arms around the blonde's neck. Nico's cold nose rested against Will's neck, and Will was shocked to feel a drop of water in his neck, realizing that Nico was, crying.
Sure, Nico had cried around Will, but it was the type when sobs wracked his small body, and tears were nonstop. But never had it been a silent crying, and caused by Will himself.
Will carried Nico quickly up to his room, and laid him on the bed. "Nico? Love?"
Nico opened his eyes, once again seeing the white ceiling that fifteen minutes ago was his canvas full of possible brush strokes, but now looked gray and dull, unwelcoming. Nico focused on Will's voice, coaxing him to breathe.
"1,2,3 that's it, good, 7,8 breath in, now out, 8,7,6. . ." Will continued until Nico's eyes refocused from their blurred gaze, and Nico's shuddering breath was once again oxygen filled.
"Will," Nico managed, and immediately he was surrounded by the warmth and comfort Will seemed to give off.
"Love? Are you OK? Now?"
Nico managed a nod, gripping Will's shirt and tugging him closer.
Will pulled the boy into his lap carefully, as though he could shatter at any moment. Nico rested his forehead against Will's collarbone, letting his eyes slide shut, tears gone. Will rested his back against the headboard, hugging the small, boy to him.
"What happened?"
"I-I, you didn't answer, and, and I couldn't find you, and Will, this happened with her." Nico's voice hitched as his hands started to shake. "I couldn't find her at first, when I came home, the kitchen's in the back of the house, near the back door, and she didn't answer, so I ran looking, and checked the kitchen, and, and there was a knife gone, and she wasn't there, she was in the dining room Will. Not the kitchen." A tear slid down his still splotchy cheek from previously crying.
Will sat, silent, stunned and uncertain how to react from the new information. He responded by lying down, Nico curling into his side.
"I'm sorry, Nico. I went to call my mom, and when I told her about how you wanted to paint my ceiling, she said yes, and I went to get the paint." The blonde looked down at his raven haired boyfriend, sky marbled with sea blue eyes clashing with swirling eyes the color of molten chocolate.
Nico wriggled up until the top of his head was level with Will's chin. Will kissed the fluffy hair, and wrapped his free arm around the smaller boy.
"Will?" Nico's voice was uncertain, scared.
Will glanced down, unsettled by the fear.
"Yeah?"
"I, never mind."
Will frowned, but looked back up towards the blank ceiling, wishing it was splattered with color, and hoping Nico was still interested in painting it.

Did I get the symptoms/panic attack right? I don't have anxiety, so please comment if (and what) I did wrong! Thanks!