The air in the room felt like it was pressing against my lungs—dense, hot, and vibrating with the wild energy spilling out from her body. The tremors crawled over my skin like an endless current biting at me, making the hairs on my arms stand on end. The lights flickered faintly, as if afraid of the power filling every corner.

I stood only a few steps away from her. Her body was tense, her shoulders slightly raised, and every breath she took came heavy. There was a faint hiss in my ears, not from the air, but from the energy scraping between us. Her eyes gleamed—sharp, not entirely conscious—and I knew that if left unchecked, her energy would erupt without control.

I swallowed hard, trying to steady my own breathing. “Enough,” I murmured softly, though I knew she might not truly hear me. One step, two steps—I drew closer, ignoring the sting of miasma that scraped across my skin like static. The veins at my temples pulsed, my mind filling with the echo of her chaotic emotions: anger, exhaustion, and a trace of fear.

My hand rose slowly, my fingers brushing the side of her face. The first touch made me sway slightly—her energy’s pulse rushed in like a wave of heat that forced my mind to adapt. It was like a rapid current trying to drag me into the whirlpool of her thoughts, and I had to focus to avoid being pulled in too quickly. Her skin was warm, almost searing, but I resisted pulling away. Instead, I tightened my hold, my fingers sweeping gently along her cheekbone, channeling a soft mental tone into her mind.

The resonance began to form—slowly, like two dissonant notes blending into one. The pounding of her emotions felt like a distant drum steadily slowing. I could feel the tension in her shoulders begin to ease. Her breathing, once erratic, started to flow in time with mine. That rhythm pulled me deeper, making my thoughts align with the beating of her heart.

I moved closer, the distance between us almost gone. My forehead nearly touched hers, my eyes staying vigilant, watching every change in her expression. As that wild energy began to ebb, I let my forehead rest fully against hers, feeling the faint pulse beneath her still-heated skin. From that point, I sensed subtle currents still flowing, like the lingering edge of a storm unwilling to fade. My breath ghosted over her face, faint, as if calling her fully back to the real world.

My left hand still cradled her face, while my right hand slid slowly to the back of her neck, my thumb brushing lightly at the base of her hair. The tremor in her neck’s skin was clear under my fingers—a quickened pulse, like a heart racing to catch its breath. She didn’t pull away. I drew closer, close enough to feel every shift of her breathing. The miasma in the air was fading, replaced by the faint scent uniquely hers—warm, sharp, and calming.

But she wasn’t completely calm. Fine tremors still stirred beneath her skin, her energy’s pulse not yet fully bending to the resonance I’d built. Those small waves occasionally struck back at my mind, forcing me to press deeper with my mental grip to keep the rhythm from breaking again. I tightened my hold on her nape, my thumb moving slowly over her cheek as if to wipe away the lingering unrest. I let my body be her support, our chests nearly touching, so that every breath she took was drawn into my rhythm.

I dipped my head slightly, my lips almost brushing her temple, letting my voice drop into a low whisper only she could hear. “Hold on.” My voice trembled—whether from exhaustion or because my awareness had merged too deeply with hers, I couldn’t tell. Even as my body grew heavy under the strain of resonance, I didn’t pull away. There was something in her eyes—a mix of weariness and unrest—that made me want to keep this moment just a little longer.

The pulse beneath her skin intertwined with my own heartbeat, creating a rhythm I had no desire to break. Before I realized it, I no longer knew who was holding whom.