To not hold your face or feel your embrace, is why I waste.
Luka watches you from the bed as you get dressed for wherever you're going. You haven't bothered to tell him (what's the point?) and it makes him anxious. It's as if he's at the end of a long leash and can never get closer. His eyes drop from you to the messy bedsheets and a soft sigh comes from his lips. You can feel his hesitation and you turn to look at him as you put on a shirt.
"Could you maybe stay today?" He asks, softly.
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