[🎐] a thousand ceaseless dreams

ix. heiyaoshi

Heiyaoshi couldn't stop shivering, both from the cold and the lingering thought of being killed. His heart wouldn't stop pounding so relentlessly against his chest, which had his knees pulled up close to, arms wrapped tight around them as he tucked his face into his lap and curled up as tight as possible in a fruitless attempt to create some form of security.

He sobbed so much that his head hurt and spun whenever he looked up. He would only shiver more and curl up again whenever he did, heart sinking whenever he opened his eyes and he was only met by more darkness. His breaths were loud. Shaky. Short, almost forced. They were all he could hear in his little cell, along with his sobs and the occasional clanking of chains upon the floor when he shifted his position.

The chains were heavy, thick, and comically large for his slender hands. They dug into his wrists, pressing against the welts from earlier, making them ache and itch. Not to mention how dirty they felt; the rust scratched against his skin and left behind a horrible smell.

It might've been hours. A day, maybe. The moments inside the cell were long, yet Heiyaoshi could hardly think of the time. His stomach had been pulled into a knot that only seemed to tighten as the seconds passed.

Heiyaoshi had greatly tired himself out from struggling in the carriage and the soldiers' arms earlier, but all the adrenaline seemed to be coming back now. His heart raced as he tried to wrench the chains off his wrists, slam them against the stone floor in an attempt to break them apart, and even try to yank the ends out from the wall it was nailed into. Even though he knew he was physically incapable of achieving any of those, he still kept trying until his palms bruised, the skin on his hands began to peel off slowly, and the heels of his right palm was even starting to bleed. Yet he didn't want to think of how he was going to unlock the door, sneak out, and find his way to Zhuimeng.

He just wanted to go home. He wanted to get out of this musty, dark, and cold cell and run all the way home, where he could stay in his room for hours on end and practice calligraphy, where he could sit in his garden and read fairy tales, where he was safe and warm and content.

The prince sobbed as he tried to pull the iron cuffs apart for the hundredth time, his fingers slippery with sweat. His head was spinning and never seemed to slow down. So was his breath, as he was hyperventilating and struggling to breathe correctly. The chains were only so long anyway; they were just long enough to allow him to stand right in front of the door with his hands at his sides, and even then they still had to be lifted off the floor. Heiyaoshi's fingers slipped and slid against a patch of rust inside the cuff, adding another cut next to the blisters all over his fingers. He bit his lip and teared up again.

His palms were covered in a gross layer of sweat. There was no way he could pull the chains off, even if he had the strength; his hands kept slipping off from the sweat and he couldn't get a good grip.

Wait — !

A bit of Heiyaoshi's head cleared as he began to rub his sweaty palms against the back of his hands, grimacing slightly at the texture. With his left hand, he cupped it under the iron cuff around his right wrist and pushed it up until it squeezed the bottom of his hand, and then slowly wiggled it while pushing it up at the same time, with the growing sweat on his hands posing as lubricant. He ignored the pain as the metal dug deep into his skin, and with a final yank, the chain slid off and dropped on the floor with a clank that made the prince jump.

He sobbed with relief when his wrist was finally exposed to the cold air. He paused to massage the blisters on his skin before he turned to remove the other chain, this one taking a little less time since he was pushing it with his dominant hand.