Julian watched as August shyly glanced around his bedroom, taking note of the expensive furniture, a unnerving silence between the two.
"So, uh," Julian began awkwardly as he rubbed the back of his neck, "do you wanna play on my Xbox?"
August nodded slowly, and Julian couldn't help but notice how tense the boy was—like he was afraid Julian would turn on him at any moment.
Julian hadn't seen the boy in months, and their last meeting hadn't been particularly pleasant. Perhaps inviting him over was a somewhat bad idea, but Julian was trying to make amends. He wanted to start over and be a friend to August.
The pair enjoyed playing a game together. Julian had felt embarrassed when August actually defeated him several times, but it was all in good fun.
When they became tired, they both crawled into Julian's big bed. To avoid potentially making Julian feel weird, August slept at the opposite end of Julian.
August dozed off quickly, his body recharging itself in preparation for the next day.
For Julian, however, it wasn't quite as easy.
August's eyes opened a few hours later when he heard the sound of crying, and he soon became wide awake once he realized that it was Julian.
"Julian?" August whispered as he sat up, perplexed.
Julian just sobbed to himself, his body rocking back and forth. "I can't breathe. I can't breathe."
August felt himself beginning to worry. He wasn't quite sure why Julian was flipping out, but it was extremely concerning.
"Just breathe," August tried to soothe, leaning in to touch Julian's shoulder to try to calm him.
"Your words don't freaking help, idiot!" Julian snapped, unable to think rationally.
August quietly gasped, hurt filling him as he jerked away. The cruel boy he used to know was now seemingly back, and he braced himself as he waited for another insult.
Julian began to shake. "I–I'm sorry, Auggie. I didn't mean—" The boy cut his own self off with a whimper, his fists clenching and unclenching—his body felt numb.
"It's okay," murmured August quietly, relaxing.
"I'm having a panic attack, I think," informed Julian as tears rolled down his cheeks, talking a bit too fast. "That's w–what my mom calls it."
"When will you stop?" asked August obliviously, and Julian tried his hardest not to lash out at him again.
It was a dumb question, but August didn't know any better. He was only eleven.
Julian didn't answer him, focusing on steadying his breathing—as much as his panic would allow.
"Auggie?" Julian asked quietly, biting his lower lip hard in order to feel something.
"Yeah?"
"T–this is kinda embarrassing," mumbled Julian, and his eyes widened a little bit as he seemed to grow more anxious, "but could you hold my hand? My mom used to do. . . that. It helps."
August observed as Julian's cheeks grew warm, although his eyes held fear. The boy hesitated, but he leaned in and grabbed his former bully's hand.
August was a little stunned when Julian gripped his hand hard, and he had to pretend like it didn't hurt. He genuinely didn't want to make the brunette feel worse.
"Can you talk about stuff?"
August tilted his head. "Like what?"
"Just stuff," urged Julian desperately. "Anything really, just please talk. It–it helps."
"Um, my dog Bear is super cute."
Julian's lips upturned slightly. "Really?"
"Yeah. Her fur's black, and she has the cutest eyes."
August continued to converse with Julian, distracting the boy until his panic attack was over.
Julian felt so sleepy, and his eyes fluttered shut—although he remained awake for minutes afterwards.
"Um, thanks," Julian muttered after a moment, before allowing himself to succumb to sleep.
August understood what he meant.