Pavel's mind raced as he felt Pooh's warm breath against his skin, a stark contrast to the icy grip of fear tightening around his heart. The way Pooh smiled, so disarmingly sweet, made Pavel's skin crawl.
He could feel the weight of the room shift, the tension palpable as Uncle Peat and Papa exchanged anxious glances, their bodies tense, ready to intervene if things took a turn for the worse.
"How are you feeling, my love?" Pooh's voice was syrupy, a false sweetness that dripped with insincerity. "I brought you some food. You need to eat to regain your strength." He placed the tray on the bed, the clinking of the dishes echoing in the stillness, a jarring reminder of the normalcy he so desperately craved yet felt so far from.
Pavel's stomach churned at the sight of the steaming bowl of soup, the aroma wafting up to his nostrils, stirring memories of happier times when meals had been shared in laughter, not in fear. He glanced at Sky, who sat quietly, his eyes downcast, as if he too felt the weight of the moment. The silence stretched, each second a reminder of the facade they were all forced to maintain.
"I—I'm not hungry," Pavel managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper. The defiance in him flickered like a dying flame, but he was unwilling to let it extinguish completely. He could see Pooh's smile falter for just an instant, a crack in the mask that revealed the monster lurking beneath.
"Oh, but you must eat!" Pooh insisted, his tone shifting slightly, a hint of irritation creeping in.
"You need to regain your strength. You need to take your medicine too" He reached out, brushing a thumb across Pavel's cheek, the gesture meant to be tender but only served to deepen the knot in Pavel's stomach.
Medicine? What medicine? Is it the Blue Pill Pooh forced him to take to enhance his fertility? Pavel's gaze fell on the tray on Pooh's lap and saw it—the Blue Pill. His heart sank as he felt pity for himself, realizing that his husband was coercing him into taking this medication to have a child without his consent.
Pavel recoiled instinctively, the memory of Pooh's violent hand still fresh in his mind.
"Don't touch me!" he snapped, the words bursting forth with a fierceness that surprised even him. It was a small act of rebellion, but in that moment, it felt monumental.
The room fell silent, the air thick with shock. Pooh's expression darkened, the cheerful facade slipping away to reveal a simmering anger beneath.
"You need to watch your tone, Pavel," he warned, his voice low and dangerous. "You don't want to make me upset."
A chill ran down Pavel's spine, but he refused to back down. He could feel the eyes of Uncle Peat, Papa, and Sky on him, their silent support fortifying his resolve. "I won't be your puppet anymore, Pooh. I deserve better than this."
The words hung in the air, a challenge that echoed in the silence. For a moment, it felt as if time stood still, the tension coiling tighter around them. Pooh's jaw clenched, his smile completely gone, replaced by a cold, hard glare that sent shivers down Pavel's spine.
"You think you can just walk away from me? From this family?" Pooh's voice was low, menacing, and Pavel could see the shadows of rage flickering in his eyes. "You have no idea what you're asking for."
Pavel's heart raced, adrenaline coursing through him as he held Pooh's gaze. "I know exactly what I want. I want out. I want a divorce." The words felt liberating, a declaration of war against the chains that bound him.
Pavel's heart raced as he confronted Pooh, who had transformed from a figure of warmth into the embodiment of his nightmares. The oppressive tension in the room weighed heavily on him.
