Page 59 of These Tears

The world tilts. Noise floods in – the report, his warnings, Marina’s voice.

I try to breathe but the air disintegrates in my lungs and turns to needles.

Dear Lord—

Elias’ hand appears in front of my face, firmly, but carefully lifting my chin as he angles me towards him.

‘Breathe with me,’ he says with a soft smile.

What?

My brain is blaring every alarm it has, but my body seems to be firing off all the wrong signals. Even through the panic, he’s beautiful enough to make it hurt. Despicable enough to make me hate that I notice it.

I blink through the black fog at the edges of my vision, the world narrowing to that low, commanding voice that can soothe and split me open at the same time.

‘Breathe. Now. One… Two…’

The words curl around me like a rope thrown to someone already below the surface. His breath fans warmly across my cheek.

And I obey. I count.

My chest expands, the burn in my ribs beginning to ease.

‘Good girl,’ he murmurs, thumb resting under my chin. ‘Keep going. Again. In.’ He breathes with me. ‘Two… three… Now let go. Relax, Leah.’

I follow the rhythm. The grip of panic loosens its teeth. Colour bleeds back into the world until my body finally stops believing that it’s choking.

My gaze meets his. Those sapphire eyes are still locked on mine. Drowning me more than anchoring me.

He leans in, his forehead grazing mine, that impossible blue swallowing my field of vision whole.

‘There you are,’ he breathes. For the first time since he found me, his grip doesn’t hurt. ‘Stay with me. That’s all you need to do right now. Just… stay. With me.’

Then, softer still, as his gaze flicks down the aisle and back—

‘And everything… everyone,’ he says, enunciating darkly with a tilt of his head, ‘will be okay.’

My head jerks in agreement. He stays too close, gaze dropping to my mouth, and my body reacts before reason can take the reins.

‘Where’s your water bottle?’ he asks with a velvety tone.

I start scanning wildly – under the seat, in the pouch, at my feet – movements jerky and useless. Then, all at once, his hand clamps over mine. Warm, rough and decisive, his fingers thread through my own, but tighten as soon as they settle – like a snare.

He bends closer, breath brushing the shell of my ear, and the voice that follows is nothing like the one that just taught me how to breathe. ‘Calm the fuck down, Leah. Now.’

‘Okay,’ I gasp. ‘Okay. I’m calm. I’m calm.’

It’s a lie, but I sell it with my next forced breath.

The safety demo begins and ends. The engines rise to a roar, pressure pushing me into the seat until the runway finally falls away beneath us. Whatever ridiculous part of me was still waiting for someone to stop this madness goes silent. There’s nothing but several thousand feet of empty air opening beneath me, and Elias’ hand wrapped around mine.

The cabin dims. The faint whir of overhead fans meets the high-pitched squeal of cart wheels rolling somewhere up the aisle.

I keep my eyes on our hands, afraid to look anywhere else.

‘Fizzy water, please,’ he says smoothly to the stewardess as she pauses beside us. Then, with exaggerated warmth, he turns towards me. ‘Would you like something, elskling?’

I recognise that one from the phrase list I’d skimmed online last night. Darling. The endearment slithers into my skin like barbed silk.