tw: manipulative!Zayne, nothing too crazy just a little dark
Zayne hates to see you like this.
The bags under your eyes have gotten worse, your hair is a disaster, and your cheeks are more sunken in than usual. Even worse is the hollowed look in your eyes, not even bothering to track him as he moves through your house.
"This will help you regain some strength." Zayne murmurs quietly as he sets a bowl of rice porridge in front of you. He doesn't do house calls often, but since the accident he made it a routine to see you.
You don't move a muscle, so Zayne picks up the bowl, scooping a small amount and cooling it before holding it up to your lips. You blink as if just noticing him, then reluctantly open your mouth enough for him to carefully feed you.
Soon enough, the empty bowl is set aside. Zayne watches you slump back into the couch, pulling the blanket higher. You don't tell him to go, to leave you alone. It's progress.
Progress had been the goal, after all.
Slowly but surely, through countless visits, you start to return to normal. You begin to smile more, to talk, to lean into his lingering touches.
He isn't quite sure when your feelings surfaced. Surfaced because he knew they were there, he'd always known. This had been a wrench in his plans, but he hadn't known just how much of a relief it would be. Like removing a stubborn splinter and feeling the instant pleasure.
Your relationship isn't official yet. He's happy to take it slow, for your sake. You're still healing of course, and he would never do anything to jeopardize that. He planned for this, obviously.
Hopefully, by the time he comes back, it'll be too late.