The first fingers of dawn were starting to make their way under the heavy hotel curtains. Zero hadn't gotten much sleep. Kaname had been tossing and turning in the other bed ever since he lay down a few hours ago. Zero had the pillow pulled resolutely over his head to help block out the sound, but he couldn't shut out the dull ache throbbing at the base of his neck.
Kaname's sheets were damp and cold from his having gone to bed wet, and from the thin sheen of cold sweat that was glistening on his body. He was dozing fitfully, but it was not restful. It merely trapped him in a state where his mind was vulnerable to the nightmares that he kept suppressed when conscious.
Trapped in darkness, Kaname could barely breathe around the desolate, empty ache in his chest. He was still suffering from Ichijo's loss, no matter how well he hid it. Going to bed hungry, and disturbed over what had happened with Zero, had made him even more vulnerable than usual.
There were hands in the darkness. They touched him, clawed him. He tried to fight back, but he couldn't, his hands were trapped. His body was on fire, in agony. The hated, unforgettable feeling of his...