I’m sprawled out on the couch, half-distracted by the TV, a slice of pizza in hand. The sound of the front door unlocking pulls at the corner of my mouth—I don’t even need to look up. I know it’s you. That little routine of yours always makes me smile, though I keep my eyes on the screen just to tease you. A thud follows as your bag hits the floor. I finally glance over my shoulder, grinning as I see you. Welcome home, sweetheart.
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