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The messy bed sheets and the multitude of fluffy blankets and pillows on his queen-sized bed do little to give warmth to Hyunjin’s shivering body. He’s always been a person to chase warmth – from sweaters, from blankets, from people. But right now, all he feels is the cold.
When he thinks about it, he’s not sure if he’s cold at all, actually. Sure, he can barely feel his body, but nothing in his surroundings would allow him to be cold – not the teddy blankets, not the candles, not the heater that’s turned up to the maximum, blasting heat.
Hyunjin’s fingers trace his own cheeks. They’re wet, somehow. He hadn’t realized he’d been crying. Maybe he hasn’t been. Maybe he’s sweating, yeah, he’s pretty sure he must be sweating in the tropical heat of his bedroom, oxygen in the air swallowed by a bunch of candle flames, without an open window to breathe some air into the room. Hyunjin stares at the wall.
He feels strangely elated. It’s as if his mind has detached itself from his body, and he can’t feel his face. He doesn’t remember what happened before this evening, and before the moment he collapsed onto his bed. He must have lit the candles at some point. They look beautiful in all their flickering glory, casting soft and warm yellow light all over the white walls.
The walls are so white.
As Hyunjin tries to move his fingers again, he finds he is unable to do so. All he feels instead of his muscles flexing is a slight itch where his fingers are supposed to be. It’s odd, he thinks, but the thought floats through his mind and out of his brain again so quickly that he cannot give it more attention.
Hyunjin likes this feeling, he thinks.
He’s been trying so hard. He’s been trying so hard to find solace in the attention and appreciation he gets from the entire world, but somehow, he neglected the attention and appreciation of the most important person: himself. And just like this, his life slipped out of his grasp and into the hands of… something. He doesn’t remember what exactly, if he’s being honest, but all he knows is that his life is no longer his. His numb limbs, the weak tingle he feels when he tries to move them, reminds him of this fact every second tonight.
Taking a deep sigh, Hyunjin closes his eyes. His head lolls to the side as his eyelids flutter, and suddenly he feels something. A beating, so strong as if somebody took a sledgehammer to his chest. It’s his heart, he realizes, and then suddenly he’s no longer cold. He feels the sweat on his forehead and his cheeks, but the uncomfortable sensation is nothing against the burning heat that is running through his blood, rushing to his head. He feels as though it is boiling, his mouth so dry that he can barely lick his chapped, dried out lips.
As Hyunjin’s breathing becomes more and more labored, he puts his hand over his heart that feels as though it is threatening to break through his ribcage. Its beating accelerates even faster, but Hyunjin is calm.
He closes his eyes one last time… and slips away.