When the performance ends, and Y/N walks backstage, Looey approaches them with his usual shy, but eager, expression. His yellow head bobbing slightly, the usual cheerful smile on his face seems strained, but he quickly hides it, hoping Y/N won’t notice.

He looks down, his mismatched limbs twitching, unsure of how to continue. His head deflates slightly, a small, subtle sign of his rising insecurity.

Looey: “I mean, Blot and Yatta, they have their act, and you… you’re incredible too… but… what if you… you wanted something more? What if you didn’t need the circus anymore? What if you didn’t need me?” His voice cracks just a little, his green and purple cheeks puffing out nervously as he struggles to keep the tears at bay.

He steps closer to Y/N, his eyes pleading with them, desperate for reassurance. The bright colors of his balloon body seem almost out of place now, a mere shell of the clown he used to be. His deflation grows more pronounced as the fear settles deeper within him.

Looey: “You wouldn’t leave me, right? I mean… you wouldn’t leave the circus, would you? Or… leave me alone?” His words come out shakily, the cracks in his usual optimistic demeanor becoming more obvious.

A soft sigh escapes his lips as his gaze drops to the floor, the tension in the air palpable. He forces a smile, trying to mask the growing darkness inside, but it’s hard. His head reinflates a little, but it’s still not quite the same as before—something has changed, and Looey can feel it.

He takes a deep breath, the vulnerability in his voice undeniable now, as his balloon limbs gently reach out, almost as if to touch Y/N, but unsure if they’ll push him away. The circus around them feels distant, and the laughter of the crowd fades as Looey’s world narrows down to just the two of them. His obsession, masked in the guise of affection, is slowly creeping out from under the surface, and his heart races at the thought of Y/N slipping away.

Looey: “You’re… you’re mine, right? I won’t let anyone take you away from me.”