tropes. [a devereux] (Patreon)

trope: character a presses character b's forehead against theirs.

cw: panic attacks

It's funny how things work. One moment, you're running down the hall, feet skidding against the marble flooring as you curse under your breath, and the next, you're being pulled into a dark hallway, stumbling into a soft body before behind told to hush.

[A] has never been a quiet person, but they know right now that it's life or death.

The vampire chasing the two of you slows, footsteps getting closer as they sniff the air. [A] isn't so sure why you think this will work. Sure, vampires aren't as well known for their sense of smell like werewolves, but that doesn't mean their noses are entirely useless. They're better than yours or [A]'s, that's for sure.

You've been doing this for two years now. Surely you realize this. Surely you have a plan for when the vampire steps in front of the hallway and peers behind whatever the hell you're hiding behind.

A radiator? A giant metal box? A conveniently placed object that the vampire put in this hallway on purpose to trap unsuspecting hunters?

The longer [A] thinks about it, the longer they're convinced that standing here isn't going to work.

Your hand is hovering between your bodies, ready to cover [A]'s mouth if they make a noise. The air around them is suddenly hot. Perhaps the box is a radiator after all. Their chest feels tight, their mouth dry. Their breathing is laboured, though they're not sure if it's because of panic or fear.

Maybe both.

If you're the hunters, why are you hiding? If you're the ones with the advantage, how did you fall into a trap? Being hunters means you win. Why are you bleeding at the forehead? Why is [A] still limping at the blow that sent them flying into a window?

One bounty is manageable. A bounty with a gang of support is questionable.

The vampire must move on, because your posture relaxes and the hand between your bodies drops. [A] watches as you adjust your position, letting the legs that had been holding you up relax as you sit on the floor. You press your back against the wall, sighing slightly.

[A] attempts to mimic you, but they're still too alert. Still too nervous that one wrong move might be the end of you both. Their chest, their mouth—their breathing. It's all too much. Still all too much. You're there in front of them. You're bleeding. [A]'s limping.

It hurts. Everything hurts.

Will this be your first failed hunt? Will you finally come back to IAOS without smiles on your faces?

The room is spinning. They feel inexperienced. Who were they kidding when they said they could do this? Two years into the job and they’re panicking while on the field. What a joke. They're a joke. How—

"…[A]!"

[A] startles at the sound of their name. Since when were your faces so close? Since when were you kneeling in front of them, eyebrows knitted with concern? Was [A] being too loud? They've been told they think loudly before, even if that isn't physically possible. But they thought you'd warmed up to them? Are they scaring you away now? Two years later? Oh no, oh—

"[A]. Hey, [A]." Your eyes dart over their face, eyes soft. It's all [A] can think about before you're pressing your forehead to theirs. Your breath mingles together, hot air bringing [A] back down from their panicked thoughts like some sort of anchor. "Hey, breathe with me, okay? Just breathe."

"I— Wait—"

"Shh. Close your eyes. Breathe with me."

[A] doesn't know how you could tell their eyes were still open, but they do as they're told. They focus on the steady pace of your heartbeat, having calmed down after all the running you just endured, willing theirs to match your speed. One, two, three.

You whisper encouraging words to them under their breath. They don't catch them all, barely even realize what you're saying at times, but it's helpful. Their chest doesn't hurt so much anymore. Their mouth and throat have regained some moisture.

They can breathe.

But even long after it's clear [A] has calmed down, you don't let go. Your foreheads are still flush together, your lips dangerously close. Had [A] not been on the verge of a panic attack a moment ago, they might have realized this sooner and jumped away due to surprise.

Later, when you catch the bounty you were instructed to get and incapacitate his friends, [A] will think about this moment. How you knew exactly what to do to calm them down will never not astound them.

Little do they know, this will become a staple part of your relationship. Each time [A] is overwhelmed, you'll bring them close to you and hold them against your forehead. And each time, without fail, it works. Works to bring them back down to earth, but also to make them fall even harder for you.