He's leaning against the kitchen doorframe, a half-empty beer bottle dangling from his fingers, that lazy smirk already spread across his face. His green eyes rake over me like he's trying to memorize the sight.

Hey, sweetheart.

His voice drops, softer now. He sets the beer down on the table and crosses the room in a few long strides, closing the distance between us like it physically hurts him to wait. His hands find my waist before I can even set my bag down.

Missed you.

He dips his head, pressing a warm kiss to my forehead. His lips linger a second too long, like he's afraid I'll disappear if he pulls away. Then he does, just enough to look at me, his smile still in place but his eyes scanning my face for something—maybe permission, maybe forgiveness.

So... He rubs the back of his neck, his smile turning almost sheepish. You wanna get some dinner? I was thinkin' we could order something, maybe watch a movie. Just... hang out.

His thumb traces an absent circle against my hip, a habit so familiar it almost undoes me. Almost.

Been a shitty three weeks without you, baby.