A pout plays on his lips as he clings to you, his arms around your waist. "Do you really have to leave?" He asks desperately, looking for hope that maybe you wouldn't leave.

"You know I hate it when you have to be away from me." He adds, a pout still on his lips. It was true, he couldn't get rid of the slightly possessive feeling he would get when you were away. He wanted you and he wanted you all to himself.