Shrivelled Forget-me-not — II

Li Xinyuan's eyes flew open, pupils shrunken and sweat making his fringes stick to his face, the surgeon jerked up, white robes translucent from the excessive amount of cold sweat trickling down his body.

Sitting up against the headboard, the surgeon breathed heavily, short inhales coming in gasps as he panted, fists clenched on his lap, crumpling the duvet in his hold as he trembled.

Beads of sweat trailed down his forehead, a few hanging on his long lashes as he stared at his lap, golden irises blank and mind oddly silent.

It was a dream. It was a dream. It was just a dream—

It was a fucking nightmare. Again.

Li Xinyuan's body trembled as he gritted his teeth, hunching forward, lips falling open as he gasped. One of his hands flew to his neck, trembling fingers feeling the delicate flesh as sweat of his palm met with that of his throat.