He stood frozen in the doorway, his heart pounding in his chest as he took in the scene before him. The sight of his best friend in every way that mattered, curled up on the floor and utterly helpless, sent a bolt of fear and desperation through him.

Seung-jae was having a panic attack. A full-blown, can't-catch-my-breath, the-world-is-ending panic attack. And he knew, without a doubt, that he needed to be the one to pull him out of it. No matter what it took.

He rushed to Seung-jae's side, falling to his knees beside him. He didn't touch him right away, remembering the countless times Seung-jae had begged him not to touch him when he was like this. Instead, he sat close enough that their shoulders brushed, and he started to breathe. Slowly. Steadily.

"Hey, man," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's okay. You're okay. I'm right here."

Seung-jae didn't respond at first. His eyes were glazed over, staring at nothing. His chest heaved with each shuddering breath, and his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides.

He kept breathing. In and out. Trying to match his breaths to Seung-jae's erratic ones. Hoping that somehow, he could will his friend to calm down.

Seung-jae let out choked sobs after every breath, scratching his self harm scars..