Lovesick Over You

Scenario: Bargaining

In which a failed escape attempt leads your boyfriend to think of taking one of your legs as punishment. Desperate to stay intact, you bargain with him for a different outcome.

Content warning: violence, discussions of amputation, desperation, self mutilation

Okay I know I said I won't write amputation but this isn't technically that it's only near amputation. Anyway.

———

You were petrified, staring across the kitchen at the back of the man who had kept you prisoner for months as he rummaged around the cupboards, muttering to himself.

"You're ruining what we have, can't believe you'd try to leave after everything I've done for you..."

It was the same line of speaking since you had come to, arms behind your back, ankles to the legs, and torso strapped to a kitchen chair with braided rope. Your head pounded to the rhythm of your heart and your throat was bone dry. You had no idea how you had gotten back to your prison, but it was likely related to drugs based on your symptoms.

The escape attempt had, evidently, gone horribly wrong, and you were once again trapped in the house with the guy who was convinced that he was your boyfriend. But this time was different from when he had first brought you here, first barring you from leaving. Every interaction then had been of light chastisement, his gaze firm but loving. Now, as he turned around, hunting knife in one hand and a strip of cloth tied around his palm, his gaze was as hard as stone.

"So," he began, letting out a sigh, "it seems like everything I've given you has meant nothing. That's really disappointing, baby, you know I'd do anything for you. If you were unhappy, you could have told me and I'd find a way to make it better. But you didn't."

"You don't listen to me-" you tried to speak, voice cracking, but he cut you off.

"I give and give and give, and you spit in my face like this by running away." he tsked and advanced, causing you to cower as he placed the knife on the table and leaned closer.

"I think after all this, all the trouble I got into finding you and bringing you back, that you should give to me for once."

He tapped your leg with his finger, and you got the message like a bolt of lightening to your skull. Your stomach churned as a light sweat immediately broke out over your body.

"Wait, no, no no no don't-" you coughed, hacking, straining against your bonds. He placed his hand on your leg, rubbing it in a gesture meant to be soothing.

"Shhh, quiet now. Come on, don't you think I deserve a gift from you?" He gave you a smile that once might have made your heart flutter, long ago, but only served to repulse you in the moment.

"And, you know, after this you won't be able to run away so carelessly. I can keep you safe, wouldn't that be nice?"

"NO!" you shouted, tears pricking at your eyes and falling down your face.
"Don't do this, don't do this, please don't-"

"Hush now," he sat down on his haunches and grabbed your leg by the knee to force it still.
"You're just gonna cause yourself more pain, and I want to make this as quick as possible. Now, where should the tourniquet go?" the man who called himself your boyfriend tilted his head up to your tear-soaked face, as if genuinely asking where you'd like your leg cut off at.

"I don't want it on at all! Don't do this to me!"
You felt helpless as he sneered, shaking his head.

"I'm doing this for us, dear. It's necessary. You know what, I'll put it here," he touched the skin halfway up your thigh, "you won't need your knee if I take your calf anyway."