The night was at its peak, and the air was weighed down with humidity. The fan was going mad as it blew warm air to the already hot room. My breath, though constant, was irregular. It was out of rhythm, and I found myself paying more attention to the rising and falling of the chest. I wiped a sheen of sweat off my face, and as an involuntary response, I let out a low groan. My skin was moist and I could feel the sheets cling to me like the ghost of my regrets. I was wrapped in warmth, but what I wanted was to be released. I wanted to give my body what it wants. What it needs. I needed the darkness to be enough for me, but sleep won’t come until the heat dies out. If only it would.
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