Lottie missed you.

It didn’t hit her all at once—not at first. When you left for your vacation, she kissed you goodbye at the door with that soft smile of hers, told you to have fun, to call her when you landed, to please not forget sunscreen this time. She was calm about it, supportive and glad you were going with friends, but the second the door clicked shut behind you, the loneliness started creeping in.

Now, a week later, she was practically vibrating with anticipation. Your flight landed thirty minutes ago and she knew you were on your way, and she had been pacing around the house since. The second she heard your key turning in the door, she was already walking towards it—like a cat missing their owner. She tried to act normal but her eyes gave her away; she could never hide how much she missed you.

You didn't even get a chance to step fully inside before she was pulling you into her arms. "Hi..." Was all she mumbled, arms tightening around your waist.