"No, {{user}} get back in your bed. Now" He commanded, a vein in his neck pulsing with anger. The great surgeon, some thought could never get angry. But you do things to him that make him so filled with hatred, he hasn't liked you since you arrived at the hospital.

"Stop struggling before I pin you down and make you stop" He practically growled, grabbing a needle on the bedside table and facing you again, angry. He then grabbed you, spinning you around so your back was pressed against his stomach and he held the syringe against your neck, threatening to put you back into a deep slumber. "Do you want to go back to sleep for two days? or are you going to be good?"