29: BOUND BY LOVE AND INSTINCT: A TUMULTUOUS DANCE OF COMPROMISE

My heart pounded as he inspected the wounds, and I couldn't help but flinch at his touch. The room felt heavy with tension, a suffocating mix of fear and uncertainty. "You're healing well," he remarked, but his eyes told a different story. They glinted with a possessive fire that sent shivers down my spine. "I-I need some space, Bob. Please," I pleaded, attempting to free myself from his grip. He frowned, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "Why are you always so difficult? I'm just taking care of you." His words were a twisted version of care, and I could feel the anger rising within me. "Taking care of me? You're controlling every aspect of my life! I can't breathe!" His expression darkened, and for a moment, I feared his anger would explode. But instead, he tightened his grip on my hands. "I do this because I love you. I can't stand the thought of losing you, especially during these nights." His confession was laced with possessiveness, and it only fueled my frustration.