Hold Your Breath Novel Novels & Stories

Like he's afraid I'll disappear if he lets go. I wait. Count my breaths. His breathing finally slows. The grip on my hand loosens just barely. Sleep pulls him under. Not deeply, but enough. I count to one hundred. Then two hundred. Then I slip my hand free. Slow and careful. Holding my breath. He doesn't wake. But through the connection I feel something shift. Like part of him knows even in sleep. I freeze. Don't breathe. Don't move. Nothing. Just his steady breathing.

I could smell his expensive cologne from this nearness and the electric blue color of his deep-set eyes. Unbothered by our nearness, Mr. Holding never blinked. It seemed like he was silently challenging me and waiting if I could say whatever I had in mind. I will prove him wrong. Not anyone will continue shaking in his presence. “You can only make me shut my mouth if you kiss me. I know you cannot do that, Mr. Holding, so don’t bother ordering me to shut up because that won’t happen. I am too annoyed right now and shutting me won’t do any good at all. I will explode if I will keep my mouth shut, Mr. Holding. So I need to let off some steam. I will talk until I get tired.”

Camela whispered, trembling with fear, “We hold our breath. Not to die…but to keep hope alive inside us. If they feed on the sound and breath, then we will starve them of it.” Vincent stared at her in disbelief before he gave a weak, bloody smile. “That’s insane,” he whispered. She held his face firmly in her hands as she spoke. “It’s our only chance.” The mouths screamed again. “Do it! Hold your breath! End it now!” But Camela closed her mouth, pressed her lips tight, and held firm. Vincent followed her action, locking eyes with her as he too held his breath. The screams raged louder, yet the chains loosened just a bit. The glow of her name dimmed slightly.

Not trembling like mine. For a fraction of a second, I hesitate. This is the point of no return. Then I place my hand in his. His fingers close around mine. Warm. Firm. Grounding. The contact sends a strange calm through me. He leans slightly closer. From the outside, it probably looks romantic. Intimate. Perfect. But only I hear the quiet murmur meant just for me. “Breathe.” Two syllables. Low. Controlled. My lungs finally obey. I hadn’t realised I’d been holding my breath.

She tiptoed slowly to the door while holding her breath. Not even the ant walking on her face made her look away from the door from once. Her target was the door and whoever is behind it. The sound of key being inserted in the key hole fell on Nora's ear and she leaned back against the wall beside the door. She held her breath and hold the gun with both of her hands. Her teeth grit together as her heart pound against her chest. She has two options on her mind right now, to kill or to be killed. The door open slowly and the door cover her. She threw her head backward as she waited for the person to walk in. His scent's was strong and it reminded her of someone but she doesn't want to admit it

His breath uneven against my skin. I freeze. Completely still. My heart pounds harder now, faster, louder, like it’s trying to break free from my chest. His hold tightens just slightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to keep me there, enough to make it clear he’s not letting go. For a moment, he doesn’t say anything. He just stays like that. Holding me. Breathing me in like he needs it. Like he’s grounding himself in me. Then, softly, “Shh.”

… In the bitter cold of that winter night, thunder suddenly crashed, and a torrential downpour began. In the bridal chamber, Princess Jasmine sat up with a jolt. She pushed Stephen off her body, clutched her chest, and gasped for air. Stephen sat up, annoyed, and wrapped himself around her waist again. He pressed a kiss to her ear. "Jasmine, what's wrong? You're wanting more? I can do even more. Want to try?" But Princess Jasmine didn't hear his question at all. Clutching her chest, she stumbled out of bed.

That she might finally feel some kind of affection towards him. At least at this moment. He closes his eyes tight and holds his breath hoping for death, praying for death, but there seems to be no plans for any release to come and so he just holds onto this breath, holding it in his lungs until the feeling disappears, replaced by emptiness. He opens his eyes and sees nothing. Then he started to panic.

The boy complained. "Who knows, maybe it's his bond." She answered. "Quiet, hasn't her breathing picked up?. I think she's awake." The boy said as I quickly held in my breath. "She held her breath in just now, didn't you hear it?" The boy asked again. How could they hear me breathe or hold my breath when I did it in silence. "Miss if you awake, please say so." The girl said. I breathed out heavily then slowly sat upright and faced them.

My chest was heaving tremendously and my lungs stretched out for air. Suddenly feeling parched, I realized that I have been holding my breath for a while now. Breathe woman, exhale! I schooled myself. In, out, in, out, in. ° ° ★LUCIANO★ Damn! This girl might be the death of me. I have never seen anyone bold enough to look into my eyes as she did. No one has ever dared to interrupt me when I'm speaking or even more; talk back to me. Yet, here she was doing all of that and I found myself so damn weak to retaliate.