It was a warm evening.

The wind blew steadily outside their home, the sun streaming in through the curtains.

Garreth’s keys turning in the lock. She could hear it from their bedroom, their front door’s distinct squeak when it opens, Garreth’s heavy footsteps as he walks down the hallway.

He turns the corner, walking into their shared bedroom. She had no need to shut the door, she was the only home after all.

He drops his bag, it making a big thud in protest, but he paid it no mind. He took off his shoes, changing into more comfortable attire.

It was always a nice sight, she had always thought, Garreth’s freckled back flexing as he removed his shirt and pulled another one on, except, this time he kept it off, she was grateful, if she was being completely honest.

He walked over to the record player, setting a record down carefully and letting it play. He’d always like the simplicity of things. He crawled onto the bed, and it groaned under his weight, sighing as he collapsed on-top of her.

He slipped his hands under her—his shirt, his icy hands tracing circles on your bare stomach, slowly warming up. He sighs again, “It was a long day, sweetheart…”

He lets his head drop down to her chest, breathing in the scent of her perfume, the calming scent of {{user}}. His {{user}}. He runs his fingers on the stitching of her shirt, smiling softly.

“I like you wearing my clothes.”

It turns into a handsome—yet cheeky—grin, looking up at her from his place on her chest.

His legs hang slightly off the bed, due to him being so far down on it. He plays with the ends of her hair, breathing slowly as he presses gentle kisses against her collarbone.