Breathe

‘Breathe’
“She was calling your name”
“That doesn’t mean anything. Never has.” She felt like her breath was stuck in her throat. She wasn’t even sure if that was possible.
What was possible was that her chest wasn’t moving, her lungs weren’t expanding. She needed to move; needed to get out of this place.
She needed to breathe.
***
She could sense her legs moving, one in front of the other, yet, she was unsure how that could be possible. She felt like she was standing still; thought she should be lying on the ground, curled in a ball. Not moving.
It appeared that her legs had other plans.
As she turned a corner, she realised in what direction she was heading and she almost...almost...laughed. If it had been any other situation she probably would have.
She would have laughed at how her subconscious movement had led her to the one place that would bring her back to the period of her life that, right now, she wished to forget. Or at least cease to remember.
She kept walking.
***
She looked up at the pagoda, craning her neck to see the upper end of the tower that she had always been too small to look upon fully. She wondered, again, what it would be like to be taller. To be that much closer to the sky, to the stars; to be that much further from the banality of the ground.
Without turning, she moved backwards, reaching out her hand seeking the hard, wooden surface of the solitary park bench. She counted five steps and, as expected, her hand touched wood and she slowly sank to the hard, slightly damp, surface of the chair.
Bowing her head, her hands gripping the bench on either side of her thighs, she wondered how many times she had been here. How many times she had sought the quiet, solitary confinement of this space in order to collect her thoughts; in order to escape from the rest of her existence.
Inhaling deeply, she raised her head to gaze upon the pagoda, seeking the peace that she had often found in its simplicity.
As her eyes focused on the tower, her memory conjured an image of...her.
***
“What do you want me to do, Evie?” She said, timidly, a tone of forgiveness in her voice.
“I don’t want you to do anything. I don’t want you to do anything that you’re not comfortable doing” Clare said, struggling not to let her voice crack; struggling not to give away the pain that she was feeling.
“Don’t give me that bullshit. Don’t act like this doesn’t mean anything to you, Clare.” She was flailing, resorting to anger in a final attempt to provoke a reaction.
“It’s not bullshit, Evie. It’s your choice, your life. I can’t make your decisions for you, you know that. I wouldn’t want to anyway. You can go to the dance with Dan if you want” Clare said, turning away from where Evie sat, hoping that she wouldn’t see the stray tear that had fallen from her traitorous left eye. She crossed her arm over her chest, hoping that the act of stubbornness would reign in her emotions.
“Fine, Clare. Just...Fine.” Evie turned, rising from the bench and turning towards the rickety gate that formed the entrance of the park. “I’m going” She said, intending to sound angry; hoping that her voice would mimic her preferred feeling. Without a backwards glance, she strode from the park, fighting against every fibre of her being that longed to turn and see Clare following her along the leaf strewn path. Part of her knew that she was making her journey alone.
***
Shaking her head, clearing the web of memories, Clare felt her eyes fill with tears. Her breathing became erratic, her chest compressed against the external elements. Looking to the sky, she prayed for composure, hoping that she could hold off the panic attack.
***
“Just breathe, Clare. Just breathe. Look at me” Evie said, holding Clare’s cheeks, slowly pulling her head to a position that would allow for eye to eye contact.
Clare struggled to breathe, feeling like no air was filling her lungs no matter how hard she tried to inhale. She forced her eyes to focus on Evie, on her eyes, on her lips, on her nose, anything that would draw her attention. Attempting to focus solely on her breathing, on the in-out-in pattern, her eyes were drawn to Evie’s gaze.
Noise faded. Without noticing, Clare began to breathe fully, her lungs no longer struggling to fill completely. The light-headedness began to diminish. Her cheeks began to gain colour, some heat.
“You okay?” Evie asked quietly, her gaze focused completely on Clare’s.
“Better” Clare whispered simply. “Thanks”
“No worries” Evie said, attempting to instil a hint of light-heartedness into her voice. She kept her gaze fixed on Clare, refusing to move it until she knew that everything was back to a degree of normality.
As Clare returned to full consciousness she realised that her hands were circled around Evie’s wrists that were still firmly attached to either side of her head. She inhaled slowly, moving her hands to grasp Evie’s. As she did this, she pulled Evie’s hands to rest upon her waist.
She waited, not wanting to move too fast, too sharply. Slowly, she brought her forehead towards Evie’s, resting it lightly against hers. As she felt Evie relax her hold on her waist, Clare pressed her lips against hers.
It was intended to extend the comfort, to prolong the atmosphere of peace; nothing else. Yet, as Clare’s lips released their hold on Evie’s, she knew that everything, within that one second of reciprocated reassurance, had changed.
***
Smiling at the memory of a stolen kiss, Clare felt her stomach clench at the once forbidden promise.
***