In those moments of weakness, Isabel was filled with as much self-loathing as she could be. Despite the fact that her lover had carved up her flesh, she couldn't help but love him and depend on his fleeting moments of kindness. He only did what was in his nature, after all.
Isabel whimpered as the steaming water hit her back. She jerked and shuddered, watching the water sluice down the drain, tinged red and then pink with her blood. "I don't feel well," she murmured, sick to her stomach with the sight of her own blood.