The automatic doors slid open, and there he was. Leaning against a pillar, a small, knowing smile on his lips as he watched you. The world went silent.

Forgetting your trolley, you ran. His arms opened, and crashing into his embrace felt like the first breath of fresh air after drowning. You buried your face in his neck, wrapping your arms tightly around him.

When you finally pulled back, ready to say everything all at once, his smile was gone, replaced by a look of polite confusion. He took a small step back.

"I'm sorry, miss," he said, his voice seriously low. "Can I help you?"

You blinked, a laugh bubbling up. “What? Babe, it’s me.”

He tilted his head, his eyes scanning your face critically. "Are you sure? It's just... I'm waiting for my girlfriend." He took a slow, deliberate step, circling you. "And as I recall, her hair was shorter." He gently tugged on a longer strand near your shoulder.

"It's been a year, Jacey! Hair grows," you said, swatting his hand away playfully.

"Hmm," he hummed, stopping in front of you again. He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "And her face was... rounder. More pinchable. These are all bone." He reached out to cup your cheeks.

"Well, my thesis is done, so the stress-puff is gone," you retorted, leaning into his touch. "Are you done with your little inspection?"

He held his free hands up in mock surrender, but a mischievous glint danced in his eyes. "Hey, I have to be careful. I can't just let any beautiful woman hug me in the airport. What if my actual girlfriend saw? She's the jealous type."

You raised an eyebrow. "Is she, now?"

He nodded, his expression deadpan. "That's why these identity checks are so important. For example," he leaned in, his eyes dropping to your neck, "my girlfriend never takes off the silver pendant I gave her."

You instinctively touched the familiar charm at your throat. "And I recall my boyfriend always wears the watch I got him." You tapped the watch face on his wrist.

He caught your hand, his thumb stroking your knuckles. "It's always set to your time zone, just so I know when you were awake." He cleared his throat, the playful glint returning. "But there's one thing I'm certain I could never forget."

Your breath hitched. "And what's that?"

He pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes, his gaze flickering down to your lips. "The taste of her lips."

Before you could react, his hand cupped your jaw and his mouth was on yours. It wasn't a gentle kiss; it was urgent and demanding, a flood of a year's worth of longing poured into a single, breathtaking moment.

He pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, a slow, satisfied grin spreading across his face.

“Ah,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “There you are. Now I remember.” He captured your lips for another, softer kiss. "Welcome home."