he remains still, poised in position – save for his eyes, which trail toward the door where a shadow of a man appears. for a moment, he considers keeping his mouth shut and his presence concealed, but responsibility pushes him upright. “enter.”
the door slides open, and the man of short stature bows quickly. it’s jiang jingxuan! he’s having one of those episodes again.
“how bad is it?” he does not move toward his erhu. “does it warrant tranquility, or are you here wasting my time for a slight annoyance?”
it’s pretty bad. we tried to calm him but to no avail. we fear he may unintentionally hurt himself—
without word, he brushes past, and with brisk steps, he makes his way to the guest corridors. upon arrival, he’s quick to take his usual seat in the room – an arm’s length away from the bed where @xxjingxuan lies, closer to his head. “leave,” he tells the maids, his command curt. a moment later, the doors slide close and on cue, he lifts his bow to play.
for tranquility, he seeks to calm the mind. he cannot fathom what jingxuan is experiencing in his night terrors, lest to what degree, but tranquility is a rather potent piece ( one that he has grown familiar with over the last three years, in fact ). he plays it once to its conclusion, then his bow stills, and he peers over.
Breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe. The words repeat in his head, they continue repeating, over and over, and over and over again. They repeat in his head as if they’re magic words, as if they would calm him down, when in reality it doesn’t help much, maybe it would work if the words didn’t repeat faster than light (slight, just slight exaggeration). His breath follows the words, it’s fast, it’s loud, and even though he’s breathing in and out way too fastly, and that should help him get more air into his body, it feels like he’s getting less and less.
He’s confused, is the easiest way to explain it, in a way he knows what is going on, in another way he has no idea. He knows what is happening, kind of, kind of he doesn’t and he doesn’t know why, he’s not too sure, why he’s so scared, shaking, moments ago in panic and hitting out into the air trying to grip of something, anything. And though he’s sure he should calm down, he doesn’t know how, it’s like his body isn’t cooperating, like his body isn’t fully his.
For him, it’s out of nowhere, a sound suddenly begins, and for a few seconds at first it bothers him, he wants quietness, but soon enough it’s like the music is around him, hugging him in a way. The words still repeat in his head, breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe, but now they’re suddenly slower, and he suddenly doesn’t feel like he’s at the edge of dying anymore.
It stops, and he hears the question, he stares out into nothing, confused as to what happened.
He lets his body fall back, covers his face with his arm, “I’m sleeping”
