Heart felt a throbbing ache in the back of his throat as a piercing warmth licked up his sides, trailing over his legs. His body convulsed as if his veins were singing and his ribs split to make room for a fire threatening to birth a star inside him. The hands weren’t unraveling him inside; they were rewriting his body with an agony that made him unable to be who he was before.

His bottom lip trembled, parting around a moan he didn’t want to give admission to, but the moan had its own freedom, slipping past him before he could stop it.

In the back of his mind, he could feel a name forming.

Why was it so hard to concentrate? Why did it elude him? Why was he caught somewhere between desire and the need for it all to end?

Indelibly, he was always teetering on the cusp between lust and death. The two feelings were woven into him in a kind of ecstasy that left him paralysed. Lithe, shadowy fingers played with his body, rubbing where they shouldn’t, taunting and pulling a moan from the back of his throat until it was torn free.

A name just beyond his reach, his lips itching to say it. But its edges blurred and faded into the darkness, slipping away entirely.

“Heart…” A voice burrowed into his ear, a voice he knew as a memory.

Even though he knew it was a voice he had never heard before, there wasn’t a time it didn’t exist with him; his world had never been without that voice in it.

It was a warm caress.

Not just the way the voice resonated in him, but its delivery: simultaneously gentle and cruel inside his body, building up the unseen form that haunted him to the depths of his waking dreams and nightmares.

He panted as the hand touching him sped up.

His fingers clawed at the air, desperate to hold on to that being, to hold on to anything as his climax was ready to unravel.

His breath broke apart in a shudder as his body rippled, exploding outward.

The last thing he saw before the void claimed him was a single thread, red and pulsing, slipping from his ankle. The thread flickered once, twice, and then snapped.

Heart inhaled raggedly as the recoil hurled him backwards, pulling him into the darkness as he was plunged into a sense of loss that had him reeling like a jolt through a stretched rubber band as he chased that high into oblivion.

Heart lurched awake, throat burning, sweat slicking his skin, and his boxers damp from more than just the heat of the Bangkok night.

“Ugh, not again, damn it.”

The ache in his chest burned, his soul stretching toward something ravenous, something his bones recognized but his mind couldn’t name.

The ceiling blurred above him, his breath sawing in ragged bursts. The fan’s hum did nothing to cut the sticky air or the feverish memory of hands that weren’t there.

Not ‘that’ damn nightmare again.

Months of torment stemmed from this repeating nightmare.

Invariably, someone would be whispering his name, teasing him.

Pleasuring him.

I’m always right at the cusp of release when I bolt awake too. Can’t I at least finish and enjoy it first? How unsatisfactory.

A lingering feeling of desire and urgency sat on the tip of his tongue, and there was an ache in his heart that made him feel like a part of his soul had been taken. Why did it leave him with this sense of loss? Like some vital parts had been stolen from him. It felt as though whatever was missing was calling to him, begging to come back. But every morning, all he had to show for the nightmare was sore muscles, crumpled sheets, and a haunting sense of desire and irritability.

With a groan, he sat up and ran a hand through his hair. Num, curled beside him, was undisturbed after so many years together, though she gave him one final side-eye before twisting her chubby butt to the side, stretching out her paws, and beginning to groom them. Clearly blissfully unconcerned with his torment. He gently petted her head, and she gave him the most cat-like stare before resuming her grooming.

“Heart, come eat quickly! Before you’re late for work.” Min’s voice echoed through the tiny apartment and into his room. He sighed, swinging his legs off the bed.

Just another day. Just another dream.

Yeah, right, just another dream. Why am I having this dream? The voice feels so familiar, yet I know deep down I’ve never heard it.

Heart scratched his belly as he walked past the mirror toward the ajar door. As he briefly passed it, his reflection flickered. Bright blue eyes and floor-length hair the color of spun gold flashed in the glass. Heart blinked and stepped back, but it was just his own reflection again, sleep-deprived and disheveled.

Heart entered the kitchen, rubbing his eyes as Min handed him a cup of coffee. She gave him a once-over, her lips twisting into a frown.

“You look worse than when you went to bed last night. Schoolwork?”

He shook his head no.

“Same dream,” he muttered, sipping the coffee.

Min raised an eyebrow. “The one with the fire and the… hands?”

Heart groaned. “Don’t talk about it.”

Min held up her hands. “Hey, not judging. Okay, I’m judging, but to be fair, it’s a little gross.”

He sighed. “It’s not… I don’t even know if I’m getting attacked when it happens, or—” He cut himself off, shaking his head. “Never mind.”

“Don’t want to know,” Min said, wrinkling her nose before pointing at the clock. “Go get ready. You don’t even have time to shower.” Her tone turned motherly, as always when she wanted to avoid grumping.

He sighed, shoved the piece of bread in his mouth, stood back up, then turned, locked the four steps back to his room, and shut his bedroom door before picking up the suit hanging on the hanger outside his wardrobe door. He gave it a once-over and shrugged. It was a few years old now, but it was his only suit.

Heart let out a sound of disgust. “Yeah. I really can’t tell. Am I being watched? Am I being burned alive? Or are those hands doing something else to me every time they reach out? And if they are crawling across me, I am halfway between wishing they would let me enjoy the ride they are taking or just hurry the fuck up and kill me already, cause I can’t take this shit much longer.”

Heart pulled his shirt on quickly and then opened the door.

“If you don’t leave now, you’ll miss the bus, and Mr. Thitipoom will have your head!” She said, raising her voice just a little so he could hear her a bit better even though the entrance to the small apartment was in the kitchen.

Heart groaned. “Just once. Just once, I would love it if I could eat my breakfast at home.” Min nodded. 

“Same, but there is only work and sleep for people like us. We don’t get to enjoy the finer things in life. Heart.” She walked over and handed him a bag with his lunch in it. He gave her a grateful look and tucked it into his backpack for work. She threw her heels on and she opened the front door, holding it open for him.

Heart snorted. “Finer things in life? I would settle for just having one steady-paying job and someone like Tee, who could make me smile every day.” He stood up, banging his heel into the back of his shoe, causing the heel to crush in a little. “Okay, fine. They have to be alright with sharing their snacks, too.”

Min scoffed, a rather inelegant sound. “Be careful what you wish for. If you make your wishes too simple, you might run away from a tiger but face a crocodile. (1)” Min reminded him, gave him a wave and headed down the hall.

Heart chuckled.

“Tiger, crocodile, demon, doesn’t matter to me, at least I’d have company.”

But even as he laughed, the ache in his body and the tightening around his ankle lingered, heavy and hollow, as if the dream wasn’t done with him yet.

(1) This proverb means that when you run away from one danger, you may just invite another encounter, one of even greater danger.