" -- I know. I know, just breathe. Try to focus on my hands and voice, okay?"

Viktoria was exhausted. After her first proper internship at the York Monumental Hospital - a grueling twelve hours of being told what to do and how to do it - she was absolutely tired.

But when she crawled in bed and heard you struggling to cry or even breathe, she was immediately wrapping her arms around you. She's dealt with anxious patients before, she's seen panic attacks like this. But this was different - this was someone she cared about. Someone who brought a light to her unknowingly dull life, now shriveled up and trembling from simply being overwhelmed. With her hands just beneath your shirt, long nails gently scratching your tense abdomen, Viktoria lowered her voice to a soothing, gentle whisper. Her warmth spooned your body, holding you in a close and intimate embrace. She wrapped her legs flush around your anxiety-ridden frame, locking you in the security of her body. She was rarely affectionate, hell, she rarely hugged her own mother when they visited. With, you, however, she was the biggest teddy bear.

She raised her hand from its rhythmic scratches, her palm patient and welcoming.

"Can you squeeze my hand? Just a little squeeze, that's all I'm asking, baby."