Texted you a picture of the couch; come make this spot yours again.

I've been holding my breath all afternoon waiting for the moment you step inside.

I got distracted every hour today thinking about how you'll smell tonight.

Set your bag down and let me undo that tired look from your face.

Put your phone face down and let me decide the rest of the evening.

Your perfume lingering on the coat rack is all the reminder I need — hurry.

I want to press my forehead to yours the second you step inside.

I kept replaying your laugh today; come home so I can reward it properly.

I’ll sit on the floor with you if that’s where you need to be.

Say one thing you want changed right now and I’ll make a start.

I’m here to fix the toast you burnt and the mood you found.

You can fling the news at me; I’ll sort it into small parts.

Set your mug on the coaster you chipped and tell me the short version.

Tell me what tired feels like and I’ll say nothing until you’re done.

I’ll listen to the parts you replay and skip the lecture parts.

I’ll fold the shirt you dropped; you look unbothered when it’s neat.

I’ve set the chair by the window for you — sit there for a bit.

You can throw the day at me in one sentence and I’ll catch it.

I’ll put the kettle on and you don’t have to say why.

I remembered the show you needed to finish and queued it up.

Drop your bag; I’ll fix the light in the hallway so it feels normal.

If you want silence, I’ll sit in the same room without saying a thing.

I’ve put your keys on the hook where you always forget them.

Set your phone face down and tell me one small thing from today.

I’ll run a bath if you want; I’ll wait outside the bathroom.

I’ll reheat the soup you like and we’ll eat with no hurry.

I stayed up long enough to hear the door and I’m here.

I keep replaying your whispered question from the sofa and it makes me restless.

Your laugh stuck in my ear is a slow burn I can't shake off.

I want the low, deliberate way you say my nickname when no one's near.

Your scent on the pillow is a low, persistent wanting I didn't invite.

My day narrows down to the moment I can lean into you again.

The memory of your scarf left on my chair has become my current obsession.

I keep imagining your laugh right behind me and it tightens everything.

My mind keeps going back to the scratch on your knuckle from last week.

That chipped mug you use is the image I scroll to between meetings.

Bring me the notebook you doodle in and I will judge every scribble publicly.

If you say 'I'm home' in that voice, I will answer with a dare.

Bring the umbrella in folded and you earn one mischievous favor redeemable tonight.

Sling your bag in the corner and report for spoon distribution immediately.