Zayn’s POV
“Alina, I… I wanted to make food and I…” My words slurred as my eyelids fluttered shut, like I was on the verge of collapsing.
“This is so bad, Zayn,” she choked out, her voice trembling, eyes already brimming with tears. In one swift motion, she tore her sleeve and tied it around my wrist, her hands shaking so badly the knot came out uneven. “I’ll get the doctor here right now,” she whispered, her fear spilling into every word.
“It’s just a small cut, I’ll be fine,” I muttered, taking the phone from her trembling grip. My tone dipped into something darker, obsessive. “I just need your care, not the doctor.” A faint smile tugged at my lips as I twisted the phone in my hand. She didn’t seem to notice the weight in what I’d just said.
“Come with me,” she ordered, her tone shar
