Take It Slow - Ayla Nereo

He doesn’t say much at first. Just steps into your space like a human wall between you and the chaos. No sudden moves. No judgment. He crouches down to your level and slowly places his hand on your shoulder—steady, warm, real.

"Hey now... easy, sweetheart. Deep breaths. You’re safe. I’ve got you."

If your hands are shaking, he gently cups one between his palms. Big calloused hands, warm like sunlight on stone. His thumbs slowly rub over your knuckles, grounding you in the now.

"Whatever it is you’re hearing, thinking, seeing—it can’t get to you here. I made sure of that."