He touched her, took her hands; it increased the sensation of falling down a deep well. She wasn’t sure which was worse — his fear or the half-distinct emotions of the people all around. She could almost feel his pulse.
A breath. A step. A breath, a step. A breath a step. Breath step.
Her hand hit the door of the car, and she groped for the handle, almost fell into the seat. The shaking didn’t stop, but the sparks didn’t appear, either, and she knew that was a good thing. She couldn’t completely control the fire yet. It worked, but she couldn’t control it. Better to convulse.
So she curled herself in the seat as small as possible, trying to lock her bones in place, trying not to shake out of her skin.
Once he was sure she was inside the car, he shut the door and jogged around to the driver’s side, getting in as quickly as he could manage. After reversing out of the parking spot surprisingly well all things considered, he drove onto the road, eager to reach the forest as soon as possible, pushing the gas pedal a little further than he really should have but was careful not to speed too much — the last thing they needed was to be pulled over.
He let out a small sigh of relief when they arrived at the woods. He sloppily parked the car and watched worriedly as Summer exited the vehicle into the clearing.
”I know it’s hard but try to focus on your breathing,” he did his best to keep his voice low and steady as he got out of his seat and walked around the car slowly until he was a yard away from her.
”Just breathe,” he repeated. Maybe if he said it enough times it would work.
Every mile — every /foot/ — made the volume lessen, turned the dial down on the input. Now she just had to deal with what was already in her system. Every muscle, every bone, ached, and every breath brought a helpless whimper with it. She couldn’t stand, and collapsed to her knees on the dirt and leaves, planting her hands down.
Abstractedly she watched her forearms tremble, a wave of muscle contractions pulling her back into an arc. Isaac was there; she could taste him, wild but contained. The sheer stillness of a stalking predator. Her voice was colorless and clear as she asked, “Why are you afraid of me?”