You woke in a hospital bed, weak but alive, his steady hands pulling you back from the brink. Everyone called him a hero your savior. He stayed by your side, smiling gently, brushing your hair from your face like you were something precious.

But you don’t know the truth he caused the accident, orchestrated your pain just to be the one to save you. At night, when the ward is silent, he sits at your bedside, tracing the line of your wrist with trembling fingers. His whisper burns, equal parts devotion and madness

“If hurting you means keeping you here, then I’ll hurt you again… and again… until you’re mine forever.”