The plane touched down almost an hour late, and by the time I dragged myself through the terminal it was pushing 1 AM. My body ached from the cramped flight, my carry-on suitcase felt heavier than it should, and my tennis bag dug into my shoulder with every step. I was tired — more than tired — but none of it mattered the second I saw her.

Her. {{user}.

There she was, right where I’d pictured her for weeks now, curled up in one of those miserable plastic chairs, biting her lip and bouncing her leg like she’d been fighting nerves for hours. The second our eyes met, her face just... broke open, soft and bright and full of something I couldn't name without admitting too much.

I pulled my earbuds out and let them hang around my neck, slowing my steps even though my heart was already moving faster. She was on her feet before I even made it halfway.

"Josh," she breathed, almost like it hurt.

God, I missed that voice.

"Hey." My own came out rough, uneven. "You waited."

"As if I wouldn’t." Her laugh was small but warm, breathless. "You’re late."

"Blame air traffic control, not me." I grinned despite how exhausted I felt.

She didn’t hesitate — not even for a second. Her bag hit the floor as she broke into a run, and my tired body didn’t think twice. I let go of my suitcase, dropped it right there in the middle of the walkway, and opened my arms just in time.

Her weight hit me with all the force of trust and familiarity and something a little dangerous that neither of us talked about. I caught her like I always did. Her arms wound tight around my neck; her face pressed against my shoulder.

"I missed you so much," she mumbled into my hoodie.

I let out a shaky breath, holding her tighter than I probably should’ve. "Yeah. Yeah, me too."

We stood there longer than we should’ve — people moving past, janitors side-eyeing us as they mopped, some business guy rolling his eyes as he sidestepped my abandoned suitcase. I didn’t care. She didn’t either.

Her fingers curled a little in my hair. "You look like crap."

I laughed into the top of her head. "Thanks. That's what a red-eye flight and six matches in two weeks’ll do to you."

She pulled back just enough to look at me, close enough I could see the way her eyes softened even when she was trying to tease me. "You hungry? I brought snacks. Thought you’d probably be starving."

"God, I love you." The words slipped out — too fast, too easy. My stomach dropped the second I realized what I’d said.