The Heartwood I don't feel the rain or the sun

He thinks that just maybe he could calm her down, or at least get her to stop biting him if he pins her down. Well it stops her from doing just that, but it opens a whole other can of worms in the process.

He can believe his ears when she starts hyperventilating, unable to gather full lungfuls of breath, he fears she will pass out if she keeps going. Then the horrible feeling that settles in his chest at the words she speaks, not only that, but how she speaks them. She’s begging and begging and he can’t help but oblige. 

Gathering himself, he arches up of off her and steps off. By all means he’s still crowding her, but at least he’s not on top of her. He’s staring down at her with a serious intensity, never before have he seen her act like that and truly it concerns him. Concerns him much more then he expects it to.

Golden eyes akin to the stars filled with sheer and a very much serious amount of concern. “Simmik. Are you okay? I’m sorry. Whatever I did, I’m sorry.” He asks you in her space again. His voice is soft and calm, in an attempt to rub it off into her and soothe her scattered thoughts.