you had twisted your ankle during training, and kenan was treating you like you had broken every bone in your body. getting up? no, he carried you. your boyfriend continued asking you if you needed anything. a drink? a snack? a pillow for behind you back? yet you continued declining everything. he insisted on “taking care of you”, yet you felt like you were being babysat. right now, you had your leg up on the couch with a pillow under it “to help with the twisted ankle”, your head on his lap as he played with your hair, and the television on to entertain you.