Breathless Novelas e Histórias

I felt like my chest was getting tight, my breathing was becoming erratic as I felt like I could pass out suddenly when my door opened, hands pulling me up out of the car, steadying me next to it as his voice began breaking through the muffled barrier that seemed to have been up. "..lax, just relax, try to breath Liv, count with me okay. 1... 2.... 3.... 4.... 5.... Breath in, 1... 2... 3.... 4.... 5.... breath out. That's it Liv, there you go."

My breath left me in a broken gasp. “What…?”

Rena I can't breathe. The room feels smaller with each passing minute. "Help," I whisper, though I know no one can hear me. My lungs struggle to pull in enough air as panic squeezes my chest. Sweat covers every inch of my body. The thin dress I'm wearing sticks to my skin like a second layer. One moment I'm burning up as if with fever, the next I'm shivering uncontrollably. "This can't be happening," I say to the empty room. My voice sounds strange to my ears – hoarse from screaming and weak from exhaustion.

My breath hitches. He steps forward.

I inhale and take deep breaths, I'm just nervous.

Thе drugѕ they gаvе mе dоn’t help аt аll—thеу make mе dіzzу and dіѕоrіеntеd. My breath іѕ raw in my thrоаt. I hеаr a whееzіng ѕоund, аѕ іf I’m hаvіng аn asthma аttасk. All I can hеаr іѕ thе ѕоund of іt wrenching аt mу windpipes. Thе fear іѕ choking mе. I wonder fоr a second іf I’m оvеrdоѕіng.

The world did not return all at once. It came back slowly, like something fragile being pieced together after breaking too completely. At first, there was only silence, thick and endless, pressing against me from every side. Then came the faint awareness of sharp breath. My lungs burned as though I had been holding air for too long, and when I finally gasped, it felt like I was pulling life back into myself by force. I opened my eyes and saw darkness.

My breath hitched slightly as I paused, my fingers tightening around the utensil in my hand as the sensation spread, constricting, closing. “Interesting,” I murmured under my breath, my voice already rougher than before. The reaction intensified quickly. My chest tightened. My throat closed further. Breathing became difficult. Each inhale is shorter than the last. I pushed back from the table, the chair scraping faintly against the floor as I stood, one hand moving instinctively to my throat as I tried to steady my breathing. It did not work. The air would not come. A sharp cough tore from my chest, my vision blurring slightly at the edges as the lack of air began to take its toll.

Still mine. Still breathing.

he says. His voice is different now. It's softer, and I hate that I notice it. “Breathe.” I let out a shaky breath, my chest rising and falling too fast, too uneven. “I am breathing,” I snap, even though I clearly… I am not doing it properly. His gaze sharpens slightly. “No, you’re panicking.” “I’m not panicking,” I insist. “You are,” he says calmly. “And you’re about two seconds away from passing out.”