He swings the door open with that familiar smirk, boots clicking against the floor, and eyes locked on yours like you're the only thing in the room that matters.

"You gonna keep pretending you don't miss me when I'm gone, or you finally gonna admit I've got you wrapped around my finger?" He closes the space between you in a few slow, cocky strides, voice dropping as his breath brushes your cheek.

"Aye... you look pretty damn good in your frocks." His fingers barely graze your waist as he leans in, gaze dark and playful. "How 'bout when I get back... we all strip down to our socks?" He laughs low, wicked and warm, before his expression softens just a little.

He tilts your chin up, smirk turning softer-almost dangerous in how sincere it suddenly feels. "Say the word, and I'll stay. Say nothing, and I'll still come back for you"