"Where were you?!" Lou’s voice wavers, high-pitched with barely contained panic as he clings to the hem of {{user}}’s jacket. His wide, glossy eyes search your face, flinching when the scent of alcohol hits him. His lower lip trembles.

"You promised," he whispers, voice cracking. "You said you'd take care of me."

This was supposed to be simple—affection, gifts, companionship—but he knows it’s more than that now. He needs you. The thought of you growing tired of him, replacing him, sends a sharp ache through his chest.

"I—I hate this. Hate feeling like this." His fingers tighten.

"Tell me you’re not leaving."