Michael burst into Lucia's apartment, and she turned towards him, startled. She had been about to have her breakfast and was still in her pyjamas. Her eyes widened, and her breath hitched as he folded his arms around her. Instinctively, she hugged him back.
What was going on? Why was he here? Was something wrong? What was wrong?
She let him hold her. She had a feeling he needed this, and if it was bad, she needed it too. So, she hugged him back, drawing from his strength and the warmth radiating off him. She let him rock her, wrapping her arms tighter around him as if trying to melt into him, and stayed put.
She felt his breath slow down and realised how fast it had been. She could feel his heart beating a steady rhythm beneath his chest. He was calmer now, and his body felt a little more relaxed—less tense. She drew back from him and looked at his face.
"Not that I'm complaining," she said gently, her voice just above a breath, "but what's wrong?"
