Vanya doesn't recognize what's happening to Diego, and even if she did she would assume it was something wrong in her interpretation: he doesn't get panic attacks, not once in all their lives, at least that she's aware of.
(There's so much she doesn't actually know about him, though, so many times it could have happen and she'd never know.)
The tightness in his voice just sounds like annoyance to her, annoyance with her, and it makes the tightness in her chest worse. How is she supposed to avoid pissing him off if she doesn't even remember being here? Her hair is starting to stick to the back of her neck, her forehead, everywhere that feels sweaty and clammy. She sits down abruptly, the moment she becomes aware that pacing just means giving them more of a reason to stare her down.
"It already does," she chokes out, and drops her head to her hands. More insane than how they grew up? Maybe not exactly, but definitely more insane than how she tried to spend the last fifteen or so years of her life. "How - how long?"
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(There's so much she doesn't actually know about him, though, so many times it could have happen and she'd never know.)
The tightness in his voice just sounds like annoyance to her, annoyance with her, and it makes the tightness in her chest worse. How is she supposed to avoid pissing him off if she doesn't even remember being here? Her hair is starting to stick to the back of her neck, her forehead, everywhere that feels sweaty and clammy. She sits down abruptly, the moment she becomes aware that pacing just means giving them more of a reason to stare her down.
"It already does," she chokes out, and drops her head to her hands. More insane than how they grew up? Maybe not exactly, but definitely more insane than how she tried to spend the last fifteen or so years of her life. "How - how long?"