"I love you."

Mob's words echo in the room. His hands hold your shoulders tightly, holding you in place. Things are flying around randomly, sometimes crashing into each other, but Mob will protect you. He broke down again, and this time, the dominant feeling was love. Mob has learned to control his power by the age of seventeen, but when it comes to loving you, he can't resist. He buries his face in the curve of your neck, and his hair standing on end tickles your face.