It was always the little things

I want drunk Sunday afternoons

Walking barefoot around the house with nothing on but a towel. Slipping into bed with you, laughing about nothing in particular, intoxicating kisses, and the sobering moment when I realize I love you.

I want a busy Monday morning.

Waking up before the alarms go off, stolen minutes filled with warmth, when the world feels peaceful and serene. Watching you stretch as you wake, the faintest yawn escaping your lips as your eyes seek mine to say a quick good morning, with a kiss you jump up and get dressed.

I breathe you in, savouring every moment