He pressed a small kiss to your neck before he moved to grab his shirt. ’I wanna be your lover,’ You watch him closely, a fond look in your eyes as he redresses himself. ’You’re leaving when the clock hits ten,’ “Do you have to go?” you’d ask him each time, subtly asking for a little more of his time— time he didn’t have to give you. ’You don’t know what you got till it’s gone, my dear’ — ’So tell me that you love me again’.