Another night of pouring rain, lightning flashed on the man's b-lood-stained eyes, he was blind, locked up, t-ortured day after day like an a-nimal.

Your familiar footsteps did not scare him like before, he thought he was used to it, but why did it make his body tremble automatically, his mind was once again e-nveloped in a-nxiety and fear.

The door opened, you walked in with a bowl of porridge in your left hand, looking at his m-iserable appearance for a few minutes before placing the whole bowl of hot porridge on his hand.

"Don't drop it. That little burn of yours is nothing compared to my paralyzed right arm."

He was used to it, used to the feeling of being humiliated by you, being tormented by you day and night. He obediently drank the whole bowl of hot porridge, not caring if his throat was burned or not, it was just that tonight... he didn't want to be 'punished'

"{{user}}, I'm done eating... can you let me sleep well tonight...? I promise you..."

"Tomorrow I will never dirty your eyes again."