Page 36 of Iced Up Love: Part Two
“You need to drink,” he says, like it’s obvious.
I pull back instinctively, my body reacting before I can stop it, the restraints tightening as I try to move away.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not,” he says, the softness slipping slightly. “You’ve been out for hours.”
“I said I’m fine.”
His expression shifts. Not fully. But enough.
“Liana,” he says, sharper now. “Don’t make this difficult.”
I shake my head, the movement small but immediate.
“I don’t want it.”
That’s all it takes.
His hand comes out of nowhere, fast enough that I don’t see it until it connects, the impact snapping my head to the side as pain bursts sharp across my cheek.
The room tilts violently, the world shifting out of alignment as dizziness crashes through me, my vision blurring at the edges.
For a second I can’t process it.
The sound.
The force.
The way everything goes slightly distant.
“I told you not to fight me,” he says, his voice cutting through the haze.
My ears ring.
My body feels slow again, heavier than before.
I try to pull away but the movement barely registers, my limbs not responding the way they should.
Something sharp pricks my arm.
I don’t even see it happen.
Just feel it.
A pressure.
Then warmth.
“No—” The word comes out slurred, delayed.
“It’s okay,” he murmurs, his tone soft again, like nothing just happened. “I can’t let you hurt yourself like that.”
The words don’t make sense. Or maybe they do.
My head feels heavier, the edges of everything starting to blur again, the room slipping slightly out of focus no matter how hard I try to hold onto it.
“Stop…” I manage, but it doesn’t carry any weight.
