"Some way baby, it's part of me, apart from me."

Song: Holocene

Artist: Bon Iver

“Harry?!” I pleaded again, my hands reaching for his shoulders to shake him slightly.  Panic coursed through me as I noticed the difficulty he was having breathing, the air leaving his lips not even strong enough to make an impact against the skin on my neck.  The wheezing that sounded from his lungs continued to haunt me as I struggled to pull myself from beneath him, his weight pinning me down. 

“Hal-“ he whispered, his voice strained and tight as he attempted to tell me what was wrong.  As gently and quickly as I could, I managed to free myself from beneath him, his body rolling onto his side as I frantically tried to discover what was wrong.  His lips were parted as he gasped, his lungs attempting to draw a full breath of air but failing.  My shaking hands desperately cupped his face, petting the hair back from his face frantically as I watched him grow redder by the second.

“Harry what’s wrong?” I begged, my voice cracking as unstoppable tears pricked behind my eyes.  My heart thudded in an irregular pattern as I tried to suppress the panic that was quickly rising in me, terrified I wouldn’t be able to stop whatever was happening to him.

His body hunched in on itself, his weight resting on his shoulder as his eyes closed.  His breathing wheezed and gasped as his hand clenched tightly at his chest.  A faint memory stirred in my mind at the sight of him holding his chest- a girl in my gym class ages ago, back when I was just a kid, who had run too hard in the game before collapsing on the linoleum floor.  She, too, had wheezed in a similar manner, her airways closing in on her as she struggled to draw a breath.

She had struggled the same way Harry was struggling now- his body revolting against him as he desperately tried to breath.  I knew what was happening to him- he was having an asthma attack. 

“Do you have asthma?” I asked, desperately trying to keep my voice calm to sooth him and help him breathe.

He gave an almost imperceptible nod of his head, his eyes squeezing closed even tighter as I asked.  His hand was shaking against his chest as he gave another involuntary shudder, his body craving the oxygen he couldn’t get. 

“Do you have an inhaler? Where is it, Harry?” I begged more urgently, releasing his face from my hands reluctantly to climb off the bed and begin searching for it.

“Dr-drawer,” he managed to wheeze his eyes opening enough to look at the bedside table.  I flung my hands to the drawer, pulling it out haphazardly and plunging my hands inside to sift through the contents.  A vast collection of condoms, a cell phone charger, and what appeared to be a bottle of Advil were all scattered by my shaking hands before I finally, finally, grasped the inhaler that had been shoved way to the back of the drawer. 

I tried to calm my shaking hands and my own gasping breaths as I shook it the way I had seen in my gym class so long ago.  My fingers wouldn’t obey me as I tried to pull the cap off, and a frustrated, terrified grunt blew from my lips before I finally got it off.  My hand moved to hold Harry’s face again while my other held the inhaler to his lips.

“One, two, three,” I counted quickly before pressing down on the button and releasing the medicine into his mouth.  I pulled it back enough for him to close his mouth, his lips sealing it inside and his eyes squeezing shut as he tried to hold what little breath he had been able to draw.  

“Again?” I asked.  My cheeks were wet with tears that had escaped in my terrified, frantic state.  He didn’t open his eyes, but already the wheezing wasn’t as strong, though his breaths were still labored.  He nodded, his lips finally parting to exhale a shaky breath.  I shook the inhaler again and repeated the process, counting down before puffing the mist into his mouth.  I pulled the inhaler from his lips, which were tinged a scary shade of blue as he pursed them together again to seal in the medicine. 

I watched in awe as his chest slowly started to rise and fall again, the steady rhythm soothing my panic as he managed to draw a deeper breath with each attempt.  The tense expression on his face eased to a more relaxed state, his eyes closed and his lips parted as he breathed in the air he’d just been deprived of. 

My hand left his face to pull the blanket around us and run lightly down his side, hoping to soothe him as he tried to regain the oxygen in his body.  His skin was searing hot beneath my fingers as I ran them over his ribs, the easy expansion relieving my frazzled nerves.  I couldn’t stop myself from leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his shoulder, my lips lingering on his burning hot skin before pulling back. 

Sweat coated his forehead, his hair clinging to it as he continued his calm recovery. 

“Are you okay?” I whispered, my voice still shaky.  I wouldn’t believe he was okay until he told me so, the terror of what had just happened flashing across my mind again. 

“Yeah,” he said quietly, his voice weak.  My hand left his back to push the hair back from his forehead, my fingers petting through the strands and raking lightly across his scalp.  Every breath he took became smoother and easier, and I slowly began to believe he would be alright.

“I didn’t know you have asthma,” I told him. 

“Come here,” he requested quietly, ignoring my statement as his hand finally left his chest to curl around my waist.  I obliged and shimmied down next to him as he slung his arm lazily over my hip, pulling me closer to him.  My hands rested on his chest, my finger tracing over the skin that was still burning hot.  He had yet to open his eyes. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked softly, my eyes searching his face despite him keeping his closed.  He hummed quietly, nodding his head.  My eyebrows remained pulled low on my face, still afraid of what had happened. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you had asthma?” I asked.  So many questions were bouncing around in my head but I didn’t want to pester him as he recovered.  The red was slowly leaving his chest and face, however, and his skin was cooling beneath my touch. 

“It never came up,” he mumbled.  I could feel his fingers tickling lightly over the skin on my lower back as if he wasn’t even aware he was doing it. 

“I was so scared for you, Harry,” I told him.  He finally rewarded me with a flash of his green eyes, his lids opening slowly to look at me.  He studied me for a second.

“Thank you, Hal,” he said quietly.  “I don’t know what would have happened if you weren’t here…”

A pang of fear struck my chest, suddenly terrified of that very situation.  What if I hadn’t been here and he’d had the attack alone?  I shuddered.

“Of course, Harry.  Does that happen a lot?” I asked, needing to collect as much information as possible. 

“No,” he said with a shake of his head.  “Only when I’m… really active.”

I blushed lightly and suddenly felt guilty.  He’d been active, alright- active sleeping with me. 

“Have you ever had an attack when you were… doing that?” I asked, not wanting to picture him sleeping with someone else and going through what I’d just gone through with him. 

“No,” he said again.  Relief coursed through me.  “I can usually feel it coming and just stop whatever I’m doing or get my inhaler before it really hits.  I get it when I run sometimes.”

“So you don’t have full attacks like that very often?” I clarified.

“No, I haven’t had one that bad in forever.”

I nodded slowly at his explanation, relieved he didn’t usually have such severe attacks.  Guilt flashed through me as I realized I had probably influenced the attack.

“Could you feel that one coming?” My fingers never stopped tracing across his chest as his gaze never tore from mine.

“Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you stop, Harry?” I asked in horror.  I couldn’t imagine knowing the feeling that was about to hit and doing nothing to stop it. 

“Because I wanted you to feel good,” he said as if it were obvious. 

“Harry,” I said seriously.  “That shouldn’t be what you’re worried about if you’re about to have an asthma attack.”

I frowned at him but he just shrugged.  “I didn’t think it’d be that bad.”

“You can’t do that again, Harry, you scared the hell out of me,” I scolded lightly, scooting closer to him.  Nearly every inch of our naked bodies were pressed together beneath the covers. 

“I know, I’m sorry,” he muttered.  He didn’t seem nearly as shaken by this as I did.

“I mean it, Harry! I don’t want you putting yourself at risk just because of… um… what we’re doing,” I said sternly.  “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I’m fine,” he argued lightly, eyebrows pulling together defiantly. 

“Yeah, now,” I muttered.  “Please Harry.”

“Okay, okay, if that ever happens again, I’ll stop,” he conceded.  I sighed a sigh of relief.

“Thank you.”  I leaned forward to press a light kiss to his lips, his puckering softly in response before I pulled back. 

“Hmm,” he hummed.  His arm tightened around me, pulling me even tighter to his chest.  My cheek rested against the swallows inked on his chest, and I pushed my lips into his skin.  He was clearly worn out from our activities and the ensuing asthma attack because I could feel his body melting into mine. 

“Fuck,” he mumbled suddenly.  Panic flashed through me once more, afraid something else was wrong with him now.

“What?” I asked, my body tensing and my voice on edge.

“Ah, hang on,” he muttered, releasing his tight grip on my torso to roll onto his back.  His hand disappeared below the covers for a few seconds before pulling it back out, his fist clenched around something before he tossed it in the trash can near his bed.  I blinked as the realization hit me and I tried not to giggle.  He still had the condom on.

I decided not to say anything since he seemed content to roll back into me and throw his arm back around me, pulling me closer to him once more.  I nuzzled my face into his neck again, kissing the dip above his collarbone lightly.  Almost immediately, his body melted back into mine just as it had before, and I felt his lips press to the top of my head as he clung to me.

“Sleep, baby,” I whispered softly, knowing he would be too proud to admit he was exhausted. 

“I don’t wanna,” he grumbled, his muscles against wherever he touched my skin. 

“Shh, Harry,” I mumbled against his skin.  “Sleep.”

He sighed heavily, his chest expanding beautiful against my own.  “Okay, Hal.”

“I’m glad you’re okay, babe,” I whispered.  I couldn’t tell if he hadn’t heard me because my voice was so quiet or because he was already asleep, but either way I was relieved he had finally listened to me. 

To be honest, I was wide awake as I laid in Harry’s arms, the fear that had been instilled in me sending adrenaline coursing through my body and making sleep seem impossible.  I had been so terrified he would never breathe normally, completely convinced he would pass out and die before I managed to help him in any way.  The was so grateful for the memory of the girl in my gym class, because even though asthma was fairly common, I was in such a state of shock that I couldn’t realize what was actually happening to him until that memory had surfaced. 

I felt a small sense of relief, however, that his extreme attacks were fairly uncommon.  If this had been his first bad attack in years, that meant he had it pretty under control.  My main concern would now be making sure he didn’t put himself in that situation again, because I already knew his nature would be to please me first and worry about himself second as he had just proved.  As long as he listened to the warning signs his body gave him, he would be all right.

We would be all right. 

I took the opportunity of the beautifully sleeping man to really listen to the way his lungs worked now that he had recovered.  The air whooshed softly as he inhaled, his chest expanding slowly beneath the tight muscles of his chest before it sifted back out through his parted lips.  Listening now, I never would have guessed this physically fit man would be capable of making such scarring wheezing noises, but I knew they were sounds I would never forget. 

The image of him struggling to breath, his face slowly turning red as he clutched at his chest, would be burned into my brain forever.  The gasping wheezes and the tight whistling as the air struggled to move through his trachea continued to ring through my ears, despite seeing him sleeping soundly before my eyes.  I prayed I never had to hear the sounds again, because I had never been more scared for someone in my entire life. 

His skin as so soft beneath my finger tips as I traced little patterns across his chest.  The dark ink that stained his skin felt no different that his clear skin, the tattoos long healed and smoothed out.  I ducked my head forward to press my lips into his skin once more, a faint tinge of sweat appearing on my tongue from the sweat left over on his body. 

I took a deep, shuddering breath, forcing myself to really believe that he was okay and sound asleep, his body long since calmed down despite being physically exhausted.  My heart beat slowly in my chest, matching the rhythm I could feel of his through his ribs as he slept, reassuring me once more. 

With one final press of my lips to his chest, I let myself into his arms and attempt to fall asleep.  My mind slowly calmed down, the soothing sound of his breath leaving his body and the feel of his skin against every inch of mine finally making it possible to fall asleep.  My last thought before I fell asleep was how very terrified I had become in that moment that I would lose him. 

The realization of how much that thought scared me made me realize just how deep my feelings for him went; I had started crying almost instantly, the tears stinging to my eyes before I even really realized what was going on.  It was like my body knew how much I felt for him before my heart had, reacting physically nearly the second the threat of losing him had begun.

Whatever this was with Harry, it was already more real than nearly anything I’d ever felt before, and I knew I was exactly where I was supposed to be- in Harry’s arms. 

A loud pounding shook me from my sleep hours later, Harry’s room drastically lighter now in the morning than the darkness of the night we had fallen asleep in.  Once again, we had shifted positions in our sleep even though we remained as hopelessly tangled together as always.  Harry’s arms were wrapped around my shoulders, my back pressing into his chest as his leg pushed through my thighs.  I could feel the reassuring tickle of his breath blowing across my cheek as he breathed evenly. 

My eyes blinked open, the first thing they settled on being Harry’s inhaler that had been relatively abandoned last night after resolving his issues.  The events of last night flashed in front of my eyes- Harry rocking his body into mine, both of us hitting our peaks, Harry collapsing on top of me, the horrible, horrible sound of the wheezing from his lungs, and what felt like a blur of me frantically trying to figure out how to fix him before finally getting it right.  Relief flooded through me again as I remembered how his breathing had evened out finally, his lungs accepting the air he craved so desperately.

Another round of pounding jolted me out of my reverie, my body jumping involuntarily at the loud, urgent sound.  Harry groaned behind me, clearly being woken up as well by the sound.  He nuzzled his face into the nape of my neck.

“What the fuck…” he trailed off, his words muffled by my skin as another round of pounding set went off.  This time I recognized the where it was coming from- his front door. 

“Harry, wake up,” someone shouted from the other side, the voice barely audible through the wood of the door and the rest of Harry’s small house.  I didn’t recognize the voice, but it was definitely a man.

“You gotta be fucking kidding,” Harry muttered, squeezing me tighter to him as if trying to fend off the unwanted intrusion. 

“Harrrrrryyyy,” another man called, this voice different from the first one.  Harry groaned again.

“No,” he said, seemingly to them even though there was no way they would hear him.

“Who is it?” I asked, twisting in his grip to lie on my back, my head falling to the side to look at him.  His arms stayed wrapped firmly around me as we lay beneath the covers. 

“Fucking idiots, that’s who,” he muttered, his lips pressing into my shoulder now. 

“Who, Harry?” I pressed, confused. 

“My friends.”  He did not look the least bit pleased to have such a rude awakening, especially since he seemed so intent on clinging to me.  I blinked, unsure how to react to this news. 

“Will they go away?” I asked hopefully.  As curious as I was to meet his friends, all I wanted to do right now was stay wrapped in Harry’s arms and the warmth of his bed.  Plus, I was sure to look like hell after what everything that had happened last night, and I wanted to at least attempt to make a good impression on them.  It was clear that this thing between Harry and I wasn’t going to end anytime soon, so meeting them seemed inevitable. 

“Probably not.  They’re dickheads, I told you,” he grumbled.  Despite his statement, he made no moves to move or get dressed. 

“So what do we do?” I asked, suddenly nervous they’d force their way in and see us lying here naked.  He sighed heavily, his eyes still not opening as he thought about what to do.  A second thought occurred to me as to why he would maybe be upset about their unannounced arrival.

“They don’t know about me, do they?” I asked even though it sounded more like a statement.  I had always suspected as much, but now we were finally about to be confronted with the issue. 

“No,” he admitted.  I thought about his answer for a few seconds.  I wasn’t sure if I should be upset with him or not before he cut off my thoughts.  “Looks like they’re about to find out.” 

"And at once, I knew I was not magnificent."

Wow! Can't believe 'Resolution' is at 30 chapters already! Thank you so much to everyone for reading, voting, commenting, and ESPECIALLY recommending! I really can't say how much I appreciate it. Hope you liked the chapter :)