Pavel woke up with wetness on his cheek. When he opened his eyes, he saw his husband smiling at him.
When Pooh noticed Pavel was awake, he kissed his cheek. Pavel was accustomed to Pooh's affectionate behaviour, even when he was rough during their intimate moments.
Pavel had learned to act surprised, knowing it was futile; Pooh would continue his routine, just as he had for the past two years of their marriage.
"Good morning, love! Let's wake up—I bought you milk," Pooh said cheerfully, which irritated Pavel. However, he chose not to show his irritation, having learned his place in their marriage.
Yesterday, Pavel realized that any wrong move could bring pain to his loved ones, as his toxic husband would go to any lengths to keep him close and bound to this unhealthy relationship.
"Ahhh..."
Pavel screamed in agony, the sound escaping his lips before he could hold it back. Pain radiated from his back and to his core, a reminder of his husband's roughness the night before.
Tears sprang to his eyes, hot and unwelcome, as he grappled with the intense physical suffering. But beyond the ache of his body, it was his heart that felt even heavier—an unbearable weight borne of the emotional scars left by his husband.
Yesterday, Pooh had shown just how far he would go to keep Pavel tethered to him, and in that moment, the feeling of helplessness washed over Pavel. He felt trapped, isolated within the walls of their home, knowing he lacked the strength to stand against Pooh's forceful love.
All he wanted was to escape, to break free from the suffocating grip that kept him there.
"Baby... Are you okay, love?"
The alarm in Pooh's voice pierced through Pavel's haze of pain.
With his eyes squeezed shut, Pavel fought to regain control, to breathe through the hurt that coursed through him. Anger bubbled beneath the surface, itching to explode at Pooh, the very person who had inflicted this pain.
Yet deep down, he knew shouting wouldn't change anything. Instead, he clenched his teeth and forced the words down, nurturing his silent endurance.
"Okay... Okay, baby. I know your back hurts, right? Sorry, love," Pooh continued, his voice low and soothing, a contrast to the storm of emotions swirling inside Pavel.
"Last night I went overboard, didn't I? Here, I brought painkillers. Let's drink those after the milk, okay?"
As Pooh gently caressed his back, Pavel winced again, each touch igniting a new wave of conflicted feelings. Love and pain coiled together, leaving him breathless.
The softness of Pooh's gesture sent shivers down his spine, but it was hard to ignore the memories—the nights filled with passion that turned into something darker, more destructive.
Pavel took the milk and the painkillers with trembling hands, a part of him yearning for relief, while another part screamed against the cycle of hurt. As he swallowed, he fought to hold onto the fragile threads of hope that maybe, just maybe, things could change.
"Please don't hurt me again..it hurts so much .." His voice was barely a whisper, laden with an ache that echoed his heart's turmoil. Turning his gaze away from Pooh felt easier than facing the love and concern etched across his husband's face.
