even when you try to learn your lesson and leave in the early dawn, the room a hue of navy and getting a chill, quietly collecting your clothes off the wooden floor, he stirs and turns over to you, his eyes barely open as he puts his hand on your lace thong covered hip, thumb soothingly running up and down your otherwise bare skin, where ya going? he asks, like he won’t be itching to separate in just a few hours. home, you tell him, trying to not sound indignant or like you’re anticipating another few weeks of nothingness even though you are. he sleepily shakes his head, his messy hair moving with it like waves blown in the wind, as he pulls you gently back down to the bed, to him. you protest gently, not really wanting to, jack… and he just groans a bit, bringing you further into his arms, as his hand trails the curves he’s now become well acquainted with, stay. and when you don’t respond, remaining slightly rigid in the embrace, he presses his nose to your temple, gripping with firmer care, stay with me. and so, you do.