Everything hurt.
It felt like someone had turned his blood into lava, heat burning through him from the inside out, searing his veins, his bones, his skin. Even breathing hurt. His eyelids felt impossibly heavy, like they’d been glued shut, and when he finally managed to force them open, the effort sent a spike of pain through his skull.
The only relief came from a light pressure over his heart. Warm. Steady. Gentle. A soft tingling spread through his chest, dulling the pain just enough that he could focus on it instead of the fire under his skin.
He clung to that sensation as his vision slowly cleared.
He was dreaming. He had to be.
He was in his childhood bedroom. Everything was exactly as he remembered it. The old dresser against the wall. The familiar scuff mark near the door. The
