High School Again: The President's Secret Lady Boss

The panic attacks were coming more often these days.

Marcellus had only experienced them a handful of times, which was surprising given his history. There is always a trigger, and most of the time, he can feel them coming and will remove himself from the situation before they hit. The attacks were awful but infrequent enough that he assumed they would eventually disappear.

Unfortunately, after a long period without any episodes, they began to resurface - more particularly, after Marcellus and Winter got together.

They struck without warning, slithering into his dreams and attacking when he was at his most vulnerable. Repressed memories crawled up to the surface of his consciousness and warped into horrifying scenarios. The nightmares were strong enough to stir him awake in the middle of the night - each time resulting in a full-blown panic attack.

Marcellus didn't have a good night's sleep for the past couple of days. 

He'd been on the edge lately, which he assumed was the cause of these horrible nightmares.. His subconsciousness always has its own plans. He was fine when he dozed off tonight in particular - and it's all thanks to Winter's presence.

His dreams started out as normal as could be. The worst dreams always did. 

It was when the spasms hit all of the sudden that Marcellus realized it's happening again. He fell to the floor clutching his head, a coughing fit striking him. Then, he knew he had to get help, but when he looked up again, his bedroom had morphed.

"H-Huh?"

Marcellus found himself in that facility where he spent his younger years at. He looked around in a haste, and he saw that Winter was no longer by his side.

"Why would you look for her? Do you really want to keep her? Can you do that...?" the intimidating, spine-chilling voice of his father echoed out of nowhere. 

"Oh, son, you think you're strong enough to protect her? You could barely even protect yourself. You could barely remain sane. As I thought, you should have just stayed like your mother."

His mother.

He can no longer remember how his mother looks like, but he can still recall everything else about her. She was an ambitious, unscrupulous woman - a fickle-hearted femme fatale. Despite her boldness to catch the attention of the eldest son of the Lexington family, she was not bold enough to see it through. 

The irresponsible mother abandoned her son, the unwanted fruit of a sinful romance, and left him in the hands of his equally corrupted father. 

"You know, son, you're really like her. Then again, you took after her when it came to getting what you want..." the voice continued to taunt him. 

"That dirty little prostitute."

In an instant, Marcellus was awake, jolted into consciousness by sheer dread and fear. 

His eyes took a moment to adjust to the darkness, and through the faint light present, he could see the cold, bare stretch of the ceiling spread out before him. If he hadn't been frozen to the bed, he might have thought logically how most ceilings looked exactly the same. But right now, the only thing he could focus on was the color.

White. Stark white like the inside of that facility. Like the inside of his prison.

The color of his tomb.

Panic hit him full force, the weight of it sharp and intense like a pile of heavy boulders crashing down around him. He was locked in place, swallowed by fear as he gasped for breath. 

'How could I be back? Had my life with Winter all been just a dream?'

Somehow he broke through the invisible weight crushing him and sat up, grabbing at his chest, his throat, his head - anything to help alleviate the terrible dread flooding his system. It hurt so, so much. He had to get away, had to run and escape.

But he doesn't know where.

"Marcellus?! Marcellus!" 

An all-too-familiar voice sliced through the cold deadness.

Then, he heard rustling before light illuminated his surroundings. The lamp at the side of his bed beams up at him, reminding him where he is.

"It's okay, Marcellus. You're here with me, see?" Winter soothed, sitting on her knees beside Marcellus.

His eyes darted around his bedroom. He then lets out a sigh of relief upon realizing that he's not in that facility. This should have been enough to calm him, but his body was already in full panic mode. Everything is getting fuzzy again. His surroundings swirl around him, nausea gnawing at him. 

Marcellus grasped at his chest as he struggled to breathe. Winter leaped in front of him before putting her hands on his shoulders.

"Breathe with me. Can you do that?" she began breathing in long, steady breaths, holding, then exhaling slowly. 

He copied her, breathing in and out as evenly as he could. If he focused on her face, he could drown out everything else around him. One of her hands presses against his back, rubbing comforting circles on it. Two things for him to focus on - the soft glow of her face and the warmth of her touch. 

"Good. That's good, Marcellus."

The fuzziness wore off first, then the swirling stopped. Slowly, his hyper-aware senses calmed down, allowing him to think logically again. 

His previous home was gone. His parents are nowhere to be found. His beloved is there with him. 

Marcellus closed his eyes and let out one long breath. Winter sat patiently while he collected himself, her hands stilling on him.

"I think I'm okay now," he said, his voice sounded every bit as exhausted as he felt. 

He collapsed back onto the bed, and she cuddled up to him. Her presence helped a lot. Even still, he couldn't completely snap out of it. He's still afraid, especially now that he's found someone he wants to cherish and protect no matter what. 

Marcellus knew he had nothing to be ashamed of. Winter has always been caring and understanding. 

But knowing that didn't stop him from feeling helpless as he lied beside her. She's sacrificing her sleep to comfort him. The small tremors that coursed through his body angered him. He hated being a burden – being weak and vulnerable like this. 

"Everything is okay, Marcellus," she reassured him as if sensing his self-loathing. 

Marcellus breathed out, shut his eyes, and tried his best to believe Winter.

---

The next day, Marcellus entered his bedroom to find Winter standing on his mattress, sticking what appeared to be plastic stars to the ceiling. 

"Do you need any help with… whatever you're doing?" he offered despite his confusion. 

"No, thanks! I think I got it!" she chirped, adding one last star to the cluster. 

She then bounced off the bed and looked up to admire her handiwork. With a satisfied grin, she turns to him and asks, "What do you think?" 

It was a very Winter-like thing to do, decorating the ceiling. But he isn't sure what prompted her to do it now.

"They look nice, Winter, but what are they for? Aren't you supposed to put them on your bedroom's ceiling, not mine?" Marcellus asked with an intrigued smile.

"These are special stars~! They light up, but only when you need them to…!" Winter explained before she leaned over and rummaged through a small box, grabbing something from a bundle of tissue paper and holding it out to him.

"They came with this bracelet you wear while you sleep. It monitors your heart rate, and if it increases past a certain point, the stars turn on and glow all different colors. I thought it might be helpful. This way, if you have a nightmare, the stars will start glowing and you'll remember that you're right here with me." 

"You bought these for me?"

"I made them!" 

Marcellus can't help but smile wider, deeply touched. Winter slips the bracelet onto his wrist and tightens it a little. 

"There you go. Just wear that to bed tonight and you'll be all set." 

He studied the bracelet with a mix of fascination and skepticism. He loved how caring and thoughtful she was, but he couldn't help but feel a twinge of embarrassment.

"I really appreciate this, but isn't all of this… well, meant for kids?" he pointed it out hesitantly, making her face fall for a moment, but her usual smile returned just as quickly.

"I think they're meant for anyone who needs them. Kids aren't the only ones who have nightmares. Besides, I think they're pretty."

Marcellus couldn't argue with that. He would give it a try at least. For Winter, he would.

That day had been hectic. He went back to work, continued the preparations for his uncle's comeback party, met up with Victor and August to further discuss their plans, and returned home to rest. Then, evening eventually came – 

And as Marcellus expected, it happened again.

The nightmares came haunting him once more. 

His eyes snapped open, the familiar panic surging through him and locking him in place. He couldn't move, couldn't scream, couldn't breathe. He was back in the white room, and he was all alone. His heartbeat skyrocketed, threatening to shoot right out of his chest.

"W-Winter."

Then, suddenly, the ceiling was bursting with colors.