When you are shaking, breathing uneven, body caught in a panic storm, Luuk doesn’t flinch.

He steps in like gravity — steady, warm, inevitable. Broad hands at their shoulders. Thumb tracing slow circles. Voice lowered into something soft and close enough to feel in the ribs.

He guides their breathing back into rhythm, holding them against his chest until their shivers melt into his warmth. Not rushing. Not overwhelming. Just close — steady pressure, quiet reassurance, protective tenderness.

With Luuk, panic meets calm.

With Luuk, trembling turns into safety.

With Luuk, they are held — firmly, gently, completely.

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