Depressed

After an hour in this tiny office, he couldn't take it anymore.

Hard to believe, but the room was really losing size. The walls seemed to get closer and closer, it got darker and darker. But maybe the latter was just his eyesight. When a panic attack loomed, he got tunnel vision that was announced by a dark and blurred field of vision. The other signs of it were also raised. His neck felt like an elephant was sitting on it, and his hands and feet went numb. He figured he had about fifteen minutes before snogging the carpet. All the emotions in the room made him dizzy, he had to swallow hard as his stomach rebelled.

Roman's inner fear billowed through Slater, his subliminal agony crashing against him like waves in the ocean. They tugged on him and he had to put both legs firmly into the ground to brave the onslaught. If Roman was around, it was worse. Then every smallest nuance of the Puerto Rican's emotional world spilled over to him and the more intensely the other fe