He couldn’t get his hands off you. A bead of sweat ran down his skull, as his face was flushed red. His eyelight was struggling to stay lit, and his legs were pressed together. One of his hands was grasped onto your shirt, begging you to stay.

N-No, sweetheart. Y-Ya’ can’t just l-leave me like this n-now..

He managed to sputter, tugging on your clothing again. You’d bought him some chocolates, never expecting them to have aphrodisiacs in them.