𝐆𝐨𝐝 𝐈𝐬 𝐌𝐲 𝐎𝐚𝐭𝐡 |Jungkook√

R O U N D- 1 7

The same old uneasy sensations and the murderous panic inside of her intensified.

She patted her chest repeatedly, panting desperately.

Her other free hand ran through her ebony hair, creasing past her flushed cheek and finally resting on her perspired neck.

Sweat?

It was all coming back.

Irene furrowed her brows as she gazed at her palm drenched wet with sweat.

It was happening again.

She rubbed both her palms against her dampened neck in a frenzy, struggling to get the moisture off.

Not this time.

Irene huffed tensely.

Small whimpers escaped her cracked lips which soon turned into screams.

Please not again.

Both her palms now landed on her throbbing temple, the vivid images of the raging fire blazing through the royal garden.

Get out of my head!

The vivid images of little Irene, frozen, and rooted to the ground.

Get out!

Even the horrific and loathful odor of burning flesh, Irene could still sense it.

She pulled her knees close to her chest and gulped.

The grim dizziness took over her being. Irene felt her head spinning round and round endlessly.

Why was the candle even left alight?

The fire outside her room was snuffed out; any hallways near her royal quarters were grim with the murk.

Alexander would make sure of it, he wouldn't allow the slightest wink of flames near her.

Especially not today.

The fire on the iron-wrought chandelier hanging above her head was stifled.

Irene winced.

Not a single candle lit aflame in her room but that.

She lifted herself off the bed, her bare feet touched the freezing, wooden floor.

Irene's hand landed on the chair beside her,

Her head still whirled in circles.

She knew if her condition were to get any better it would only be by eradicating the tiny fire twirling on the candle as if it was mocking her.

Irene didn't care if the flame had to be put out by tossing the candle out of her window, or by stepping on it with her bare feet.

It had to be gone.

She moved in its direction, stumbling here and there occasionally.

Her fingers reached for the candle, while her other hand pressed down on her forehead firmly to ease down the blistering headache.

If only she hadn't felt so weak and wobbly she would have tapped down the fire with her palm.

If only she wouldn't have tripped mid-way, losing her balance.

If only her muscles wouldn't have ached so awfully.

Or if her hand wouldn't have stumbled on the metallic tray under the candle, instead of the candle itself.

The silver tray tumbled down on the floor with a loud clunk along with the candle.

The blaring noise made Irene grimace.