“Oh come on, mon ch￩ri,” Lothaire groans quietly. His head falls to the side, his gaze finding Anon’s forehead. “You can stay a little longer, yes? It feels like you just got here.” He keeps his voice low and gentle. They cuddle on the couch, listening to the rain. “I just never want to let you go, mon ch￩ri. You have made my life tr￨s belle.” He hums, burying his nose in their hair. “I can even help with flight costs.” He wants them to stay, hoping their job will allow it. “I just want you to stay, mon ch￩ri.”