Tell me one naughty thing you’d do if we had the morning to waste.

I’ve hidden a coin in your coat pocket; find it and claim your reward.

My chair at work feels like a placeholder until you sit in it later.

I want the way you say my name when you’re trying not to laugh.

Send me one single word at noon that means I should speed home.

I keep imagining the smell of your jacket and it’s slowing my typing.

I stole one of your socks and I plan to return it with interest.

I want the story you’ll tell me when we’re half asleep and too honest.

Tell me what to wear and I’ll make the commute worth your while.

Keep your window open tonight; I want the same breeze that touched your hair.

I’m late because I kept replaying the corner where you kissed me goodbye.

Your phone on silent means nothing; I’ll text something that makes you break it.

I’m counting the hours in coffee sips and it’s only making my thoughts worse.

Tell me one thing you want me to take off when you get home.

Bought extra gum because the memory of your breath won’t leave me alone.

I want the sound you make when I’m whispering against your ear later.

Promise me you’ll answer if I call during lunch with one long 'wait'.

I woke up thinking about how you pushed my shoulder and didn’t let go.

I keep replaying the way your hand found my waist by the sink.

Your perfume on the pillow is doing most of my work for me today.

I packed the lunch you like, but I’m just imagining unwrapping you instead.

My mouth keeps remembering the taste of your coffee on my cheek.

Tell me you’ll wear that shirt again tonight; I need the memory.

I’m thinking about your tired smile and hoping this day treats you gently.

I refilled the sugar jar since you always say it’s the little things.

I texted you because I’m grateful you’re just you, messy hair and all.

I noticed you rehearse your presentation and wanted to say you’ll do fine.

I found the matching sock under the bed and put it in your drawer.

I like waking up and finding your toothbrush already in its cup.

I’m keeping your spot on the couch warm until you collapse into it tonight.

I admire how you get up and go, even on mornings that look impossible.

I remembered to buy your favourite cereal because you mentioned it in passing.

I’ll handle the calls tonight; you can unwind without thinking about them.

I love that you answer emails with short sentences and still sound kind.

If today is hard, remember I’ll be in the kitchen with takeout by eight.

I’m proud of the hours you put in today—don’t forget to breathe.

I’ll text you a stupid joke at noon to interrupt your serious meetings.

I woke early and made the toast you like, it’s cooling on the counter.

Take the umbrella even if it’s bright, I prefer you dry than stubborn.

I packed an extra sandwich in your bag since you skipped breakfast yesterday.