#804: He wants you to stay after a one night stand.
You sigh after a few minutes, pushing yourself up into a sitting position and looking over at his spot in bed. He's still naked, glistening in particles of sweat and heat. He gives you a lazy grin, and then somehow, starts to frown when he sees you're ready to leave. "Oh," he says after another second, "...oh." Because to him, it's like, 'does anyone even want to spend the night with me?' And he continues to frown and watches you start to get up, before his fingers get the best of him and form around your wrist. "You don't have to go, do you? I'm not sure how I feel, but I don't know why I was looking for a one night stand in the first place. Stupid, right? But what if I want more? And what if I want someone to want me more?"
Propped up on one elbow, everything bare besides a sheet over his legs, he assess you dressing, pulling the lingerie back up your legs. "Maybe you should... stay," he drawls out softly, eyeing the way your legs go on for miles, "I mean, we're both drunk, don't you think?" Though he's not slurring anymore, and his senses are up to speed. He wants you back in the bed, naked, where he can have his way with you until morning. He doesn't know what possessed him to finally have a girl spend the night, but he wants you, badly. "Just... stay. Yeah, stay. Please stay. We've only just begun." And it's something to say other than 'hey, I somehow really like you, and I don't know why, but I want you to stay more than just one night.'
So, he's usually a good boy, right? Respectful and dignified, not always going for a fuck late at night. He thought he'd be a bit dirty for once, and go outside of the box, but he couldn't get over his ways and ended up wanting a little bit more of you, for more than just a single night. "You don't have to go, you know, that's not really fair." He's stumbling over his words, dragging his boxers past his hips and blindly helping you search for your panties on the floor. "Let me take you out for breakfast. At least stay for that long. We don't have to see each other ever again, but I..." He looks up, and catches your eye. "I don't do this often and I feel bad. I want to give you something more, because you're pretty, and... you deserve that much."
At first, he's not really sure what came over him -- but it did, and he got sad watching you start to pick up your clothes and put them on. Even though tequila was still on his brain, so were you, and he hated to watch you go. "I don't think a pretty girl like you should be waiting for a cab this late at night," he says softly, so softly that you almost don't hear him. But when you turn around, his eyes are trained on you; they're soft, easy-going, beckoning you to stay for just a little bit longer. "That's really not safe, y'know. Guys can get head-over-heels for girls like you." Which is weird that he's saying this, because he barely knows you, but he feels as if he wants to know more about you. Things that make you sad and happy... and in love.
In the middle of the night, you start to pick up your things (scattered around his flat, due to his eager hands and sharp teeth), quietly enough so you don't wake him up, but he senses coldness around his bed, like any other night. And it sucks -- because he's kind of sick and tired of being alone and not having someone to wake up to. "Hey," he murmurs sleepily, and you pause because you hear the rasp in his voice and it's really, really nice. He watches you, insecurely picking at one of the feathers on his pillows, "Do you want to wait until morning? Do you like breakfast?" It's the first time he's ever wanted a girl to stay with him, and it feels nice. He likes how your body molds into the spot next to him in bed, like you belong there, somehow.