The four walls of the bedroom felt like they were actively pressing inward, shrinking with every ragged breath he took until the space was entirely too small, the air felt far too thick to properly inhale.
Theon's palms were slick with cold sweat…it felt like a damp, freezing chill that didn't just sit on the surface of his skin, but seeped deep through his pores, settling directly into the marrow of his bones. Inside his chest, his heart had transformed into a frantic, wild thing, hammering against his ribs like a trapped animal in a cage. It was a relentless drumbeat of pure, unadulterated panic that echoed loudly in his ears. He could hear it racing, he could feel the sickening thud of it, a physical manifestation of the vast, terrifying void that had suddenly opened up inside his soul the exact moment he realized Azaria was gone.
