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’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 noticed the dent in your car and offered to help because I like you.

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.