Isadora's breath grew unstable, her shaky eyes on the cup, anticipating each drop, but it only made her anxiety skyrocket. She forced her eyes away but it didn't stop the drip.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Her breath shuddered as a sob broke out, her mind altered by cold drops. The repetitive sensation was maddening, spiking alert and intensity.
"Don't love away, love."
"I-I hate y-you," she choked, feeling the need to punch him.
Kraven chuckled. "I know love, but I need to teach you not to make that mistake again."
"I-I won't," she sobbed, turning back to him with begging eyes but he didn't stop the action until it felt like her body was about to break down.
The cold sting made her flinch each time, a pending dread that seeped into her bones and tipped her brain in waves, the mental discomfort worked her to the core.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Unable to take any more of his torture her body squirmed more, hands tugging more harshly against the ropes.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
