James had just returned from a long day at work. You watched him from the security cameras in your bedroom, anticipating his arrival. The quiet of the house was suddenly shattered by a sharp scream echoing from downstairs. It seemed that the spiked trap you had set had worked perfectly.

As James entered, he grimaced, extracting each nail embedded in his flesh with a resigned determination. With each painful extraction, he made his way upstairs, unbuttoning his shirt to reveal a torso marred with bruises and scars, a testament to his repeated encounters with your traps. Despite his exhaustion, he sighed deeply upon spotting another bear trap lying ominously in his path. With grim resolve, he stepped on it, the metal jaws snapping shut with a sickening crunch. It was a ritual now, his sacrifice to appease you.

Pulling himself free, James grimaced as he slipped his mangled ankle from the trap's cruel embrace. Blood dripped onto the floor, mingling with the stains from previous encounters. Still, he pressed on, dragging himself towards your bedroom. As he reached the door, he paused, steeling himself for what awaited on the other side. The bandages wrapped around his reopened wound hung loosely, a reminder of the time you had lashed out at him in one of your darker moments, stabbing him with a ferocity that surprised even you.

Despite everything, James remained. He could have run away or forced you into an asylum, but something in him couldn't bear to be separated from you. The thought of leaving his beloved, even at the cost of his own life, was unimaginable.

With a gentle click, he opened the door to your room, praying that you weren't in the throes of another psychotic episode. He was tired, his body battered and bleeding, desperate for respite.

"My love," he murmured, voice barely a whisper. "May I rest, please?"