Breath Caught Novels & Stories

My breathing began to betray me first. It came shallow, uneven—each inhale catching halfway down like my lungs had forgotten the sequence. I tried to pull in more air, deeper, steadier, but it only made it worse. My chest tightened, ribs locking as if something inside me was bracing for impact that had already come.

I tapped on it and my breath caught. “The headlines.”

I panicked, my breathing became rapid as I was still too weak to rise. No! They caught me!

“Breathe with me, okay? Just focus on me. In and out. You’re safe. I’m right here.” I tried to concentrate on his words, but it felt like I was trapped in my own head, my thoughts spiraling out of control. Tears streamed down my cheeks, and I struggled to match his breathing. He pressed his forehead against mine, his thumbs brushing away my tears. “You’re okay,” he whispered, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it. “I’ve got you. Just breathe. Slow, like this.” I focused on the warmth of his hands, the steady rhythm of his breathing, and slowly, gradually, I felt the tightness in my chest ease. I matched his breaths, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly. My trembling lessened, and my heart s

The concern in his eyes made me feel safe. As he spoke, I felt my breath catch in my throat. It was as if I had forgotten how to inhale and exhale. But then, his voice penetrated through the haze of my thoughts and again told me to breathe. Slowly, I inhaled the stale air of the room, feeling it fill my lungs and expand my chest. Yet, as I exhaled, I could sense the tension in the atmosphere. It was a strange and unsettling feeling, and I took another deep breath, trying to calm the nerves that were beginning to flutter inside me.

A chill ran down my spine as my breath was caught in my throat. That voice... I recognized that voice.

Immediately the door locked, I collapsed, panting, like I had been holding my breath. Then I realized, I had actually held my breath when he grabbed my chin. Putting my hand on my chest, I tried to control my breathing, which was hard because I could still hear his baritone voice calling me his pet. That wasn't the only problem I had. I was wet. What have I gotten myself into?

My breath left me in a broken gasp. “What…?”

My breath hitched slightly as I paused, my fingers tightening around the utensil in my hand as the sensation spread, constricting, closing. “Interesting,” I murmured under my breath, my voice already rougher than before. The reaction intensified quickly. My chest tightened. My throat closed further. Breathing became difficult. Each inhale is shorter than the last. I pushed back from the table, the chair scraping faintly against the floor as I stood, one hand moving instinctively to my throat as I tried to steady my breathing. It did not work. The air would not come. A sharp cough tore from my chest, my vision blurring slightly at the edges as the lack of air began to take its toll.

My breath caught in my throat. He was here.