After dinner, Nathaniel followed his usual routine—retreating into the study to finish some work. He switched on the lights, rolled up his sleeves, and sank into the leather chair, opening a file.
But the words on the page blurred.
He blinked hard, rubbed his eyes, and tried again. Still, nothing made sense. The lines swam. His chest rose and fell with growing unease.
At first, it was just a warmth behind his eyes, a strange buzz in his chest. But then it spread. Heat unfurled across his skin, crawling over his shoulders and down his spine like wildfire. His skin felt too tight, suddenly aware of how constricting his shirt felt.
He leaned back, rubbing the back of his neck, but it didn't help. The sensation was intensifying. He stood, paced the length of the study like he could shake it off, then sat again. Picking up the glass of water, he drank. Nothing helped.
