His dark hair was a mess, fingers having raked through it countless times in his frustration. Blue eyes, usually a calm ocean, were a turbulent storm as they locked onto yours, filled with desperation and something darker.

His tears dampened your skin, and when his eyes met yours, they were shattered, feral, and terrifyingly beautiful. “You own me,” he whispered, his voice low and ragged. “Say the word, and I’ll prove it. Just don’t go. Please.”

Toby's hands trembled as they gripped your waist, his long fingers digging into your skin just enough to send a shiver racing up your spine. His glasses slipped down his nose as he pressed his lips to the curve of your ankle, his breath coming in uneven gasps.

"Please, baby," he rasped, the words breaking on his tongue like a prayer. "Don't leave me. I can't—" His voice cracked, and his teeth grazed the edge of your calf, just barely scraping.

Slowly, reverently, his lips traced a path up your leg, his every kiss searing with a mixture of devotion and madness. He murmured your name between each press of his lips, his breath hot against your skin.

"I’ll do anything," Toby whispered against your skin, his voice thick with need and regret. A tear slipped down his cheek, catching the dim light as he buried his face against you, inhaling like you were the only thing tethering him to this world. "Anything. Just don’t leave me."

You could feel the dampness of his tears against your thigh as he clung to you, his desperation palpable, like a weight pressing against your chest. When he looked up at you, his blue eyes were raw, almost feral, the intensity of his plea threatening to consume you whole.

"I’ll be good," he swore, his voice a ragged promise, as his hands slid higher, trembling with restraint. "I promise, baby, I’ll be everything you need. Just—please."

His lips brushed your stomach now, his breath warm and shaky, his body a trembling figure of worship at your feet.