・❥・ʙᴏᴏᴋ ᴛᴡᴏ ᴏꜰ ʙʟᴜꜱʜ ʙᴏʏ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ. Jung Wooyoung, known for his hot pink cosplay outfits, has blossomed with confidence thanks to his boyfriend, San. Enduring a time apart due to San's work, Wooyoung has held his own. But upon San's return, the dynami...
As the oppressive weight of the nightmare bore down on me, my body felt trapped, pinned to the bed by an invisible force. The room around me seemed to fade into an unsettling void, filled with eerie echoes of laughter and menacing sneers. These weren't just disembodied voices; they felt like shadows lurking just out of sight, taunting and cruel, drawing ever closer in the darkness. The more I struggled, the more tangible the darkness became, wrapping around me like a suffocating shroud.
Every breath became a battle. The air felt thick, almost viscous, as if I were breathing through a cloth. A sharp, metallic taste flooded my mouth, the imagined taste of blood so vivid that I could almost feel it dripping down my throat, choking me. The sense of panic that gripped me was all-encompassing, my heart hammering in my chest like it was trying to escape. Every nerve in my body screamed for air, for escape, but there was none to be found.
In the midst of this terrifying ordeal, a crescendo of mocking laughter peaked, as though my unseen tormentors reveled in my fear. It was at that moment, the height of my desperation, that I managed to tear myself from the clutches of the nightmare. I awoke with a gasp, the transition from dream to reality so abrupt that for a moment, I lay disoriented, my body drenched in cold sweat.
As reality settled in, the darkness of the room felt oppressive, a stark reminder of the nightmare's grip. I reached out frantically, needing assurance that it was truly over, that I was indeed awake. My hand found San, solid and real in the darkness.
As I slowly regained consciousness from the nightmare, my stomach churned uncontrollably, a visceral reaction to the terror I had just experienced. A gripping nausea overwhelmed me, and I felt an urgent need to escape the confines of the bed. Clambering out, I barely made it a few steps before I doubled over, heaving as if something were lodged in my throat. It felt as though the nightmare clung to me, blurring the lines between sleep and wakefulness.
The cold floor beneath my feet did little to anchor me to reality, as the room seemed to spin slightly, disorienting me further. Tears sprang to my eyes, not just from the physical discomfort but from the lingering horror of the dream that had felt so oppressively real. The images from the nightmare—the darkness, the choking—stayed imprinted in my mind, refusing to fade even as I opened my eyes to the dimly lit room.
San, ever attentive, heard the distress in my movements and was immediately by my side. "Wooyoung, what's wrong?" he asked urgently, his voice laced with concern as he crouched down to my level.
