Peach Silhouette

21 | losing face

TW // PANIC ATTACK AND THEMES OF IT ARE RAMPANT IN THIS CHAPTER. IF YOU NEED TO SKIP IT I'LL PUT A NICE SUMMARY AT THE END FOR YOU <3 STAY SAFE

As soon as I was away from Hayden's sight, I broke. Dream's voice was distant. I knew I was out in the open and anyone could see me. But not even my composure could save me now. 

My throat closed and panic rose in my chest. Fog pressed in on my brain. I sobbed, the sound faint and far away. My heart rate kept rising and I felt it shaking in my bones. 

I can't breathe. I can't breathe. I can't breathe. 

I felt Dream guide me to his room. 

"George, I'm here. It'll be ok. I love you, ok?" I heard his soft voice but it my mind it was harsh and uninviting. "What's wrong?" He asked. 

"I can't breathe." I said frantically, tears running down my cheeks and my chest heaving. "I can't breathe I can't breathe I can't breathe-" He wrapped me in a hug. 

"Tell me what's wrong." 

"HAYDEN. HE'S HERE. IM SCARED. I'm scared he'll hit me like he used to when he took away my color and when he used to hit my mom," I inhaled sharply, my voice scratched. Tears continued flowing down my cheeks. "I don't want him here, I don't want him near you, he can't touch you. He can't touch you. He can't. I can't - I -" I stuttered, shaking in Dream's embrace. Dream stepped back, and gripped my hands.

"What do you mean, when he hit you?" He snarled, his voice low and grim. I'd never seen anything more terrifying than the look in his eyes right then. 

"When I was younger, he, he" I cut off, remembering the way the ground slammed into me and the way the color faded.

"He's the reason you're color blind, isn't he?" Dream asked, his voice uncharacteristically even and cool. He took a breath, and wrapped his arm around me as I shook violently and choked back tears. I nodded.

"I know these aren't the best circumstances, but there's something I want to show you." He murmured, leading me to his closet where he pushed open a door. Inside was a stairway that led into a dimly lit room. There was a pile of blankets, pillows and bean bags arranged into a sort of nest in the center of the room. He fixed a space for me and gestured for me to sit. 

"I love you George. I'll be back in a moment." I heard his footsteps and flinched when I heard the sound of glass shattering against the wall. 

I rocked back and forth, my brain whirling. The panic ebbed and faded as tears continued pouring down my face. I took a deep breath, trying to recall all the advice I'd seen for anxiety attacks. I tried to steady my breathing. It slowed but remained shaky. I coughed. The thoughts kept returning to my mind as I sobbed in intervals. 

I heard voices above me and I listened carefully. I caught another voice that was very familiar and feminine.

"You," the voice commanded viciously. "Need to leave." I heard protest.

"NO, DELILAH. THIS IS NOT FOR THE GOOD OF YOUR SON. HE WAS HAPPY." I heard receding footsteps. 

"If you ever step foot on this property again, you'll regret it." I heard Dream threaten, more serious and terrifying than I had ever heard him before. I felt the panic overwhelm me again and I began to recite a sentence I remembered.

"I'm losing face, losing, I'm losing face." My voice broke. I repeated it over and over, finding comfort in the consistency. "Losing, losing. L-o-s-i-n-g. Losing." My voice slowly became stronger and the panic subsided. 

A lingering feeling of delicacy and sadness remained. I traced circles on the gray blanket under me. I heard the door swing open and Dream appeared on the stairs. He laid down beside me, his body hugging mine.