Takes Two To Tango

This wasn't what he wanted. He didn't want to panic her, didn't want to frighten her in any way. This was supposed to be a simple tryst, nothing more - nothing less. And here he was, on the ground gasping for breaths that wouldn't come. His lungs were searing hot, burning on the inside as the scarred flesh tried to process what little oxygen he was taking in. Tears welled in his eyes as he fought the pain, the agony of not being able to do something as simple as breathing. She spoke quickly and with absolute panic, unsure what she should do. She forced his head toward her, though he was sure the image of him she got would not be what she wanted. He relaxed slightly as she curled against him, her familiar presence enough to slow his heart rate a bit. He gulped breath after breath, desperate and starving for oxygen. The tears in his eyes began to fall, and he let out a rasped and barely-audible whine. Lungs constricted within his frame, fighting harder for the air that he did have. Slowly he could feel the burning subside, could feel his cells receiving the oxygen they so desired. His eyes began to uncloud and he twisted his head toward her weakly. "Shhhh," he managed. "I'm okay." His tone was deep and rasped, but it was there. He'd never wanted to worry her. He continued to draw in deep breaths, slowing his heart rate and allowing his lungs to catch up. He couldn't offer her much more of an explanation just yet, but he could feel the vigor returning to his frame. Damn his lungs.