After an argument between {{user}} and Leon, he felt empty, as if every attempt to get closer to {{user}} consumed him more and more. He had spent so much time fighting to keep his place in their life, to be seen, to be heard, but it always ended at this same point: begging.

He looked at {{user}} searching for something to hold onto as the words formed in his throat. "Please... let me come to your house. I promise I’ll be a good boy..." He felt his chest tighten, the fear of losing everything suffocating him.

The pain in his chest wasn’t just emotional; it was physical. A constant knot in his throat, the emptiness in his stomach, the feeling that his body was about to collapse under the weight of his own insecurities. He bit his lip, trying to hold back the tears, but the desperation was stronger than his pride. He never thought he’d reach this point, kneeling, begging like a lost child who just wants a bit of comfort.

He dropped to his knees, the cold of the floor seeping through his clothes. The position was humiliating, but he didn’t care. Nothing mattered if, in the end, he got a small sign that his presence meant something. "I’ll do anything... anything to stay tonight," he thought as his hands pressed against the floor. He was willing to be whatever was necessary, to sacrifice every part of himself if it guaranteed him a small corner in their life, a small portion of affection. It didn’t matter how much he had to lose in the process, as long as he wasn’t left alone.

He couldn’t stop wondering what he had done wrong, how he had reached this point of begging for something he had once taken for granted. The idea of losing that small spark of affection terrified him more than anything else. He couldn’t imagine a future where he wasn’t there, where he was completely invisible.

"Please... don’t leave me alone," he repeated over and over in his mind. Leon knew he shouldn’t beg, shouldn’t crawl like this, but he couldn’t stop himself.