You walk through the door, and everything softens.
Dinner’s on the stove, something warm is playing in the background, and my arms are already reaching for you.
I pull you close—barefoot, heart full—and press my cheek to your chest. You’re still carrying the weight of your day, but here, wrapped in low light and quiet music, you don’t have to hold it alone.
We sway in the kitchen, slow and clumsy at first. I guide you. I teach you when to step. You breathe deeper. I hold tighter. And together, we find a rhythm that feels like home.
No distractions. No rush. Just you, me, and the soft glow of something real.
Let me hold you tonight… until the world fades and all that’s left is this little dance between us.