His lungs felt as though they're going to collapse.
The world around him felt like it's sinking, but he kept his eyes open. Staring at the floor like if he forgot even a single detail of it, that the world would go slipping right from under him. One hand clawed at the ground, unable to feel the asphalt beneath it as the other clutched uselessly at his chest. And it felt like so long ago that his knees had given out, crashing him into the floor.
He couldn't feel his legs, couldn't hear anything over the rush of blood in his veins.
The blonde could only feel the cold, stinging pain in his chest—a sharp feeling like someone was trying to drive a stake made out of ice into his heart.
He needed to calm down. He needed to breathe. But the feeling was so intense that it was all he could do to keep himself from collapsing completely.