Breath Caught Novels & Stories

My breath came shallow. I rose onto my toes, peering through the peephole. And there he was. My breath caught instantly, the air snagging in my throat. The phone trembled slightly in my hand as I held it. My chest felt like it forgot how to breathe, as if every inhale had to fight its way past the knot in my throat. “Damon?” The whisper escaped me, faint, barely even a sound. What is he doing here?

His breath stalled for just a second. Fucking NO!

His breath wafts against her ear turning her skin hot despite the cold air. What a vulnerable position she was caught in. Trapped in a stranger's arms, hands bound, mouth sealed, with darkness and loneliness surrounding the entire place. Emma's breathing became uneven. Chest rising and falling in an unusual rhythm. She skipped a breath when his palm moved gradually onto her waist and squeezed it lightly.

My breathing slowly grew uneven as hesitation swallowed me whole. Seconds later, I found myself catching my breath as I gasped for air, the bracelets still clutched tightly in my hands.

Hudson asked. I froze as my breath caught in my throat.

And she doesn’t even have the right time to visit the doctor so that she will know what is wrong with her and why she couldn't sleep. She opened her eyes when she heard someone clearing his throat and Grey dropping her head on the chair with no aids. When she finally opened the eyes, she came face to face with their boss, Mr Tate. Taking her time, she rearranged her hair and everything that was tangled. "Good morning Mr. There." She heard Grey greeting while, she standing, thinking of what to say about his dressing or anything he does. Tate turned to face Hazel waiting for their greeting. "Good morning." She said but it came out as stutter..

A familiar Voice. My breath left my lungs.

My breath hitched. “What?

Something that made my breath catch for a different reason. I closed my eyes for a second, trying to push it down. I felt him shift slightly, just enough that his face was closer now, his breath brushing faintly against my temple. “Breathe,” he murmured. I tried. I really did. But it came out uneven. The footsteps outside shifted again. My grip tightened on his shirt without thinking. My body tensed completely. Seconds stretched. And then—the sound of footsteps moving away. My lungs burned as I finally let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. But I didn’t move. None of us did, because we couldn’t be sure.

My breath caught, my mouth falling open in shock. What?