Breathless Trilogy Novels & Stories

Hailey*** I can’t breathe. It feels like my lungs are collapsing under the weight of everything, like I’m drowning in this cold, suffocating nightmare. My body is trembling, but it’s not from the chill in the room. The hospital air is frigid, but it’s the fear, the terror, that has a hold on me, squeezing tighter and tighter with each breath.

Three times. Leo’s breath caught. It was their signal. A simple pattern born out of desperation: *I see you. I’m with you.* Leo’s heart hammered against his ribs. He lowered his book slightly, catching the faintest reflection of Silas’s profile in the dark glass of a nearby art frame. He saw Silas’s lips move silently, shaping a single word: *Breathe.* It was a lifeline thrown across a chasm. Leo took a slow, shaky breath, the simple act grounding him. He lifted his book again, focusing on the page, forcing calm. The connection, fragile and silent, was enough. For now.

My breathe hitches and I forget how to breathe. I can already see the headlines forming 'heiress dies a shocking death from forgetting to breathe in the presence of a hot heir'......... yeah, that doesn't sound so good. He reaches his hand forward and brings his fingers to the front of my neck to grasp the other end of the necklace. The trail of his finger on my skin sets my body on fire and my breathing starts to become erratic. I think I hear him do a deep intake of breath but that could just be my imagination. This is pure torture.

Every breath cuts. Every blink shows me something new—a sky that isn’t sky, a horizon that folds in on itself like a knife through canvas. The Shatterpoint isn’t a place. It’s a wound that breathes , pulsing with the ragged rhythm of a dying thing that refuses to die. The Child grips my wrist—the good one, the one that hasn’t gone black and numb yet—but their fingers feel insubstantial, flickering in and out of phase with reality. Their mouth moves, but the words come seconds late, stretched thin by the temporal eddies whipping around us.

I feel a sharp, electric throb deep inside, a persistent, heavy ache that makes me want to squeeze my thighs together right here in front of everyone. "The loss of breath," I say, my voice gaining a desperate, reckless edge as I try to push past the fog in my brain. "It is the moment the character stops breathing for themselves and starts breathing for the person or the force holding them there. It is the shift from fighting the atmosphere to becoming part of it."

I felt like my chest was getting tight, my breathing was becoming erratic as I felt like I could pass out suddenly when my door opened, hands pulling me up out of the car, steadying me next to it as his voice began breaking through the muffled barrier that seemed to have been up. "..lax, just relax, try to breath Liv, count with me okay. 1... 2.... 3.... 4.... 5.... Breath in, 1... 2... 3.... 4.... 5.... breath out. That's it Liv, there you go."

“It’s so hot, and this is an outdoor party. She’s suffering from heatstroke, yet she lies on the ground and continues to pretend. A cold drink will fix her right up!” Suddenly, I felt like I was about to die. My heart pounded violently, and my shoulders started shaking. I gasped for air, but nothing reached my lungs. My throat let out harsh, ragged breaths. The guests saw that something was wrong with me and stepped back in fear. “She… she’s not actually dying, is she?” Ethan’s eyes widened. His whole body trembled as he froze in place.

I see a fish jump in from the lake and with a splash goes back inside. If I get into the water. All the things could go away. My nightmares, the fear, and flashbacks. It could all go away. Christain stands up looking at me. The clear water droplets slide down his torso, shoulders, face, and arms making me forget how to breathe. By looking at him, I know I'll be okay if I am with him. I'll be okay. He starts swimming in front of me and with a shaky breath and hands, I unzip my dress and drop it down to the ground and step out of it.

My breath hitched in my throat, and my stomach dropped with a sickening lurch. The bustling courtyard went utterly silent, all other sounds fading into a muffled background. Every eye, it seemed, was fixed on the unfolding drama. I could feel the raw, untamed fury radiating off the Triplets like a tangible force – a low, simmering rage that vibrated in the very air around us, a silent promise of retribution.

"Breathe. You don't get to die. Not after what you did. Breathe!" *Five. Six. Seven.* A sudden, violent tremor rippled through his body. His chest jerked upward. A harsh, rattling gasp tore from his throat as his eyes flew open. They were wild, unfocused, and completely dilated. He arched off the ground, desperate for air, his fingers instantly clawing at his shirt right over his heart. Sophia let out a loud, strangled cry, reaching out to steady him, but he was already struggling to sit up, his survival instincts fighting through the haze of whatever darkness he had just pulled himself out of.