the lights were too bright. music too loud. people spinning around you, laughing, shouting, dancing — but your chest was tight. your throat dry. your hands wouldn’t stop trembling.

you didn’t know what to do, so you did the only thing you could think of.

you reached into your pocket and clicked the pager aaron gave you.

once. then again. again. again. again. like your thumb couldn’t stop.

and then— the door burst open.

“{{user}}—”

you turned on instinct. he was there. aaron.

his suit was still half-buttoned, rain clinging to the shoulders. face flushed. chest rising too fast, like he’d sprinted the whole way.

you blinked. the world around you blurred. the music still played. people still danced. but he— he was already crossing the room.

before you could say a word, his hands were cupping your face. his thumbs brushed under your eyes. his gaze frantic.

“are you okay?” he breathed. “god—are you okay? what happened? what’s wrong?”his voice broke on the last word.

you shook your head, barely.

“i didn’t know what to do,” you whispered. “it's too much-”

and just like that— he pulled you into him.

aaron didn’t care who was watching. not the half-dozen people staring. not the whispers behind drinks. he just held you. one arm tight around your waist. the other at the back of your head, pulling you closer.

your face was buried in his chest. he smelled like rain. warm. safe.

his hand moved up and down your back, slow, steady. his voice was softer now, by your ear.

“i'm here, it's okay,” he murmured. “i’ve got you.”

you closed your eyes.

because he was here. and somehow — you felt okay again.