I like stealing your headphones and listening to the song you pretend not to love.

I enjoy making a mess in the kitchen because you’ll wash dishes and laugh.

I want to wrap my arms around you while you complain about your boss.

I like that you text me a picture of your lunch like it’s a secret handshake.

I’ll race you to the bus stop tomorrow and let you win if you want.

I feel pleased when you remember the tiny thing I mentioned once.

I like noticing the little coffee ring on your desk and knowing it’s yours.

I want to be the reason you check your phone during a meeting.

I like it when you talk to your plants; it shows you talk to small things kindly.

I’m already planning to steal a bite of your dessert when you look away.

I enjoy when you fall asleep reading and the book falls on your face.

I like hearing you sing off-key in the shower and pretending not to notice.

I want to drop by with bad wine and worse dancing and you watching.

I’m into the way you micro-plan movie snacks down to the gummy bears.

I love that you hog the blanket; it gives me an excuse to touch your shoulder.

I’ll make your toast burnt if that’s the only excuse to hand it to you.

I’m glad you call me at midnight about nothing; it feels electric.

I like that you leave crumbs in the couch and pretend it wasn’t you.

I want to hear about your day even if it’s just you complaining about traffic.

I’m smiling at the thought of you tripping over your untied shoelace.

I like the particular way you say my name when you’re annoyed.

I’m tempted to sneak into your coat and keep your phone warm.

I enjoy watching you try to peel an orange without making a mess.

I get a small rush when you read my terrible jokes out loud.

I want to make you tea tonight and argue about the right way to stir.

I like knowing you take the long route home when I do the same.

You left your jacket here; I touched the pocket and missed you.

I love that you always forget your keys and I get to rescue you.

I noticed you hummed the same song twice and it made me smile.

I want to text you from the grocery aisle just to hear you laugh.

I keep your chipped mug in the dishwasher so it’s there when you want coffee.

I left your umbrella in the car on purpose; decide whether you forgive me or get wet.

If you steal the last biscuit I will exact a very specific, charming revenge.

Don’t answer texts after 8, I'm reserving you for very minor crimes.

I just rearranged the spices; if you want your cinnamon back you owe me one slow dance.

I put a post-it on the mirror that says 'meet me at nine' — show up or I move the note.

Bring that awful wool jumper; I want to see you pretend it's fashionable for me.

Cancel your evening — I hid your keys and my plans involve pizza and you finding them.

The sight of your keys on the counter makes me plan tonight.

I keep thinking about your whisper and how it makes me rearrange my day.