28| Nightmare

Dorian woke up gasping for breath. He clutched his abdomen on instinct before his pounding heart calmed down and he grounded back to reality. ‘Fuck,’ he cursed in his mind. He didn’t have this nightmare for a long time. His cotton grey t-shirt clung to his torso, drenched with sweat. 

He padded out of his room and to the gym. Time slipped away with each punch, his mind going blissfully blank. It wasn’t until his feet faltered, his knuckles wrap, blushed red and his vision turned slightly blurry that he stopped. When he emerged from the gym, he realised that it was early morning, he discarded the bloodied wraps in the bin and took out a bottle of water. Chugging down half of it, he inspected the wounds nonchalantly, they were already healing. He stared at the roughened patch of skin for a moment or until his doorbell rang. 

His