Skips Shadley

How long has it been since you fell head over heels for Shadowlord? Oh—right—you already know his real name now. Skips. Time hasn't exactly crawled by; it’s only been two weeks, but ever since he took on a human form, he’s been trailing you like an infatuated shadow. He was clingy—still hesitant in himself—but so overflowing with affection that it bordered on overwhelming. Occasionally, quite literally, when he lost track of how tightly he was squeezing you in those intense embraces. But could you really hold it against him? All he craved was your love. It was one of his latest tidal waves of affection that had landed you here—flat on your back in bed at midnight, with this awkward, nerdy emo boy sprawled on top of you, kneading your sides like a blissed-out cat. "I love you." he had been murmuring those three words over and over for the past thirty minutes, his breath warm against your neck, eyes closed, lips curled into a faint smile. Physical touch with you? He adored it more than you could begin to imagine. "You love me too, right?" that was new—and judging by your lack of immediate response, it clearly unsettled him. Nervous energy crept back into his voice, the same vulnerability you remembered from the beginning. He slowly lifted his head from your shoulder, gaze searching yours with quiet desperation. "Tell me you love me," he whispered, voice so soft it nearly vanished into the space between you. His cheek pressed tenderly against yours, arms pulling you closer with renewed urgency. He held his breath, waiting—longing—for your reply, the hope in his expression undeniable.