I did design this spell jar for my witchling, who is trying to set up her jewelry business, but it’s good for others who want to give their butts a kick. It’s aiming to provide a boost to creativity, to prosperity chances, to peaceful life, and to love (self and others).
Another shot of the Rideau Waterway from the lookout at Rock Dunder. This image is a composite of two photos from the same timelapse. The sky was taken from one of the earlier photos in the timelapse, and the foreground was taken from a frame near the end of the timelapse, after the moon had risen, illuminating the water and trees.
Beautiful faces are not necessarily those which have had make up and foundation placed upon them after sitting down for hours trying to get it right in order to hide the blemishes. Beautiful faces are those which are placed down in prostration out of humility and awe for the Great One. Beautiful faces are ones that are illuminated through the water of wudhu in the middle of the night and decorated by the light of loving the Messenger. Beautiful lips are not always attained through lip gloss and lip stick. They are attained through the remembrance of Allah and through us practising the Muhammadan Smile ﷺ when life is tough and you feel like giving up. Beautiful eyes are not always achieved through mascara and the lengthening of eye lashes. Beautiful eyes are achieved through repentance and saying sorry all alone whilst the world sleep. They are achieved through us weeping in the love of Madinah and through us constantly yearning for the Custodian of the Green Dome. Beautiful bodies are not always attained through desiring superficial bodies like those we see on TV. Beautiful bodies are attained through standing, bowing, sitting and praying like we saw in the Tayba of the Beloved.
SUMMARY - She can’t sleep. He won’t leave her. They spend another all nighter together, where they share their intimacies away from the public eye.
WARNING - not smut, but mature enough to rate as PG-13
WORD COUNT - almost 1.2k
AUTHOR’S NOTE - i can totally see Ethan doing this and tbh i got major feels writing this hOly SHIT i think this might be my favorite imagine i’ve ever written.
REQUESTS - OPEN
Ethan and Y/N aren’t the average couple; they’re usually mistaken as inseparable best friends. Whenever Ethan isn’t with Grayson, you’ll almost always find him with Y/N, creating never ending memories together. They fit perfectly with one another, constantly supporting each other. Around her, Ethan always felt safe, at home, and most importantly, he felt like himself. This was always noticed by friends, family and fans – therefore, she was admired by all. Together, nothing could tear them down.
So when Ethan, Grayson, and Cameron had to attend an event in Florida, They had to invite Kaylani along. Of course, she said yes.
for one hour each day it rains. for one hour each day it is blisteringly hot. the next hour it is snowing. the next, hail. no one knows what season it is.
zebra mussels coat the bottom of every lake. the beaches are permanently stained red from the bloody feet of those foolish enough to swim there.
skeletal remains of shipwrecked freighters rise high out of the water, illuminated by the green glow from a hundred lighthouses. when you get close to them you are overwhelmed by the drone of a fog horn that seems to live inside your head. your eyes roll back, your boat is flooding. get away from the wreck. you are surrounded by lighthouses. where did all these lighthouses come from.
what’s in the pasties? some joke that it’s humans but you know the truth. the black squirrels with demonic red eyes would take over otherwise. the pasties keep michigan safe.
the horses on mackinac island are the same ones that have been there since the beginning of time. everyone talks about the Grand Hotel but no one ever actually goes there. it smells like fudge and rotting meat. it is where the horses keep their humans.
unsuspecting tourists cross to the wrong side of sleeping bear dunes into the sharp-toothed maw of the actual sleeping bear. this is how she’s fed. everyone lives in terror of when she will awake.
it is march 23rd. all of the sudden everyone around you begins chanting at once. O B E R O N everyone drones. people fall to the ground, limbs jerking, foam dripping from their mouth. it smells like oranges and beer. strangled cries echo throughout cities O B E R O N they scream. the bars are locked and shuttered, the patrons trapped inside.
thousands of cars line the highway, snaking down I-94, I-96, I-75. they are waiting for the dark man to return from o h i o. he will distribute the fireworks. later the sky will seem as though it is on fire, the sound of explosions never ceasing. it is fourth of july weekend. night never comes.
no one has ever left michigan adventure.
the ghost of henry ford appears in the passenger seat of anyone with a foreign car. he opens his mouth in a silent scream. bugs pour out. he disappears. toyotas and audis are found abandoned everywhere along the road, the bones of their drivers picked clean.
petoskey stones are found on the beach each morning arranged in the shape of strange circular sigils. no one knows what happens if you step in the center, but the life-like garden sculptures sold at every small town art fair offer some clues. their stone eyes plead for you to help them.
time does not exist in meijer. it is a respite from the ills of the outside world. although not technically trapped, many never leave.
all residents are tested each year to ensure they have ingested the required amount of better made chips and faygo. if not, their hands are cut off. without their hand maps, these criminals wander the state, unable to find their home. “where are you from?” people ask. the deviants turn their dead eyes toward their stump dripping blood and point to the air above it. it is no use. the ultimate punishment.
Warnings: Mentions of death and suicide but it’s not that bad, Blood?
Plot: In a past life you and nana were soulmates but that ended badly thousands of years later he finds you again even if he didn’t know he was looking in the first place.
A/N- I personally cringed writing this not because it’s cringy (wait it might actually be idk my cringiness is clouding my judgement) but more because of how bad I think it is
It was a myth of love and
heartbreak. The myth was about two people from different kingdoms, enemy
kingdoms, who fell desperately and hopelessly in love. Due to the kingdoms ban
on interactions between the peoples of the two kingdoms the two were forced to
keep their love secret meeting only in a pavilion surrounded in a pond, flowers
and vines in the silence of midnight. The legend says the soulmate’s love for
each other was so greatly powerful that with the two of them together they
could summon the light of the moon and the sun combined, the lights would dance
with the couple encouraging their romance.
This paradise wasn’t eternal;
war broke out and the couple was separate. One was injured, with an arrow whilst
the other died in battle stab through the heart with a danger. There are two versions
of the myth one states that so full of grief and rage, they would rather have
died than be parted from their loved one, that they drowned themselves in the
pond. The other version of the myth says they buried the dagger and the arrow
under the pavilion and swore they would, in another life, be reunited with
their lost love.
You closed the book and set
it down, you had read it again for what felt like the thousandth but you didn’t
care it was still your favourite story whether it was real or not you didn’t
care, it was hella cute even if it wasn’t a happy ending.
You got up from your pillow
fort and walked over to your bags which lay packed ready to go. Your friends
and you were going on a school trip to a camp an hour’s drive away for an ‘education
experience of myths’ which in other words means the school wanted to get rid of
the troublesome kids so they could redecorate the teacher’s lounge.
A text from your parents told
you to clean your room and go through your packing list so you’re ready to go
when they swing by.
You gather all the pillows and stuffed them
under the bed along with most of the junk on your floor, this made it look
clean but what your parents don’t know can’t hurt them soo.
You grabbed you bags and
opened them, riffling through them with the speed of light and closing them
again. Cleaning of the room, check and making sure I’ve packed properly, check.
The camp was big, like we’re
talking so big it had a Museum of Myths (you we’re freaking out about this one),
a lake, group activities and enough cabins to fit two schools, which it was.
Another school was there when your bus stopped, a private school.
The two schools would be competing
for ‘fun’ though out events in the camp. You wouldn’t take part in any events
just watch from the side-lines and support your school.
The schools were way more
competitive than the teachers had probably planned. Shouting swears and going
as far as to pull pranks on each other. Fish, frogs and mouldy food had found its
way into many peoples’ bed from both schools. Buckets of soup, lake water and
spoiled milk had been placed all over the camp sending panic and chaos through
One of the events was
badminton, not wanting pranked you sat at the back whilst the players stepped
onto the court. Then it began the shuttle was launched, players hitting it back
and forth. Then you spotted him hitting the shuttle on the opposing team’s
His hair curled the colour of
hazelnuts and chocolate, a cheeky grin spread on his face gracing the world
with its presence, plump pink lips and kind charming eyes. He seemed to radiate
positivity and sunshine. He moved with grace and elegance trying to defeat the
player from your school.
His school was winning and
only had one more point to score before they took the victory for that event. That’s
exactly what he did, smacking the shuttle out of the reach of his opponent reach
and claim his school another victory. You didn’t care about the game or who
wins it but when he got the victory you couldn’t help but feel happy for him,
even though a wave of swears and hatred went through your school
He beamed a smile and did a
cute little fist pump in the air. He looked over the audience and his eyes met
yours, his smile faltered for a minute while he looked at you. Averting your eyes,
you started to talk to your friends at your sides, but you still felt his
lingering gaze upon you.
After dark the hatred
remained and the schools increased the horridness of the pranks after the
badminton game. Some kids had been thrown into the lake others had all their
clothes hidden after showering. You had managed to stay clear of all the awful
things until midnight when you desperately needed the bathroom. You were
slightly terrified of the dangers but screw it you needed to get it over with.
Slipping on your converse and
taking a flashlight you headed out into the dark.
You got far enough to trick
yourself into believing that you would be fine but stupid universe just wasn’t
gonna let it happen that way. You walked right into a trip wire and set off a chain
reaction which led to the bucket of fish guts above your head. The bucket
tilted ready to spill its contents all over your head a hand swooped in snaking
around your waist ripping you from the danger. The figure didn’t let go after
the fish guts hit the ground inches from where you both stood, instead they led
you out from the cover of the trees and out into the open. The moonlight acted
as a flashlight shining on his handsome features as he smiled down at you.
“Hi, found you” he smiled at
you, hand still around you.
“H-hi, you were looking for
me?” you timidly said confused about what that meant.
“Yeah I remembered you from
the badminton and I had to find you after the game” he said giving you a cheeky
little wink, he continued to speak “I want to show you something, follow me” he
let go of you and walked back into the trees.
“Wait one minute boy, I don’t
know your name let alone trust you, a stranger, to walk me into the forest” you
half yelled, but that wasn’t completely true you did have this extremely odd
feeling that you could trust him which is why when he didn’t answer you ran in
after him anyway. He waited for you beside a tree and when you caught up he
took your hand in his intertwining your fingers with his.
You weren’t too shocked by
this because the feeling of this being so right pushed those thoughts out your
“My names Na Jaemin” even in
the darkness you could see he had given you another smile which for first time
you retuned, he then began to walk again you slightly behind him.
The walk went on for a good
twenty minutes and then you saw it, light from your flashlights illuminating
the waters of the pond and the white marble of the pavilion. An audible gasp
escaped your lips as he led you closer. A bridge took you both across the pond
and he parted the vines and pulled you in after him. This place seemed so
familiar to you, Jaemin seemed so familiar to you.
Jaemin led to the centre and
let go of your hand walking up to a pillar and taking matches from his back
pocket, striking it and lighting a torch, the flame from the torch carried on
in a line around the pavilion until the small space was completely lit. You
could see the floor pattern now a Heart with a dagger and an arrow through it.
Jaemin stepped back into the
centre and took both your hands.
“You know what my name is,
shouldn’t you at least return the favour” you pondered what he was asking.
“Y/N!” you sorta blurted out.
Then blushed. A LOT.
He hysterically laughed at
you then stepped close letting go of one of your hands and brushing his thumb
over your cheek. You looked into each other eyes before your eyes flickered
done to his pink lips then back to his beautiful dark orbs. He moved in closing
the gap connecting his lips lightly to your own his hand cupped your face while
the other set itself on your hip. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you both
started to move your lips. The emotion in the kiss made it seem like you were
both making up for thousands of year’s worth of lost time.
You opened your eyes and
immediately stopped kissing him looking down at his chest were under his shirt
a bright golden light illuminated and spilled out spiralling around you both.
Focusing on his chest you hadn’t noticed the silvery light spilling out of your
own chest. Jaemin seemed just as shocked as you gaping open mouthed as both the
lights tangled together like intertwining threads.
Your vision began to go
blurry like a silk vail shielded your vision, then you remembered the war, the
pavilion and Jaemin your very own sunshine. You looked down and saw a dagger plunged
deep into your chest and the pain and heart break you felt knowing you were
dying leaving Jaemin behind. Then the memory ended and you found yourself
sitting on the floor looking at the floor of the pavilion where the arrow and
dagger looked back. You looked up, Jaemin sat in front of you still in a
trance, you crawled over to him cupping his face in your hands as the memories
of your past life flood your brain causing your eyes to tear up.
Jaemin’s eyes opened. He
reached up and pulled you to him to reconnect your lips this time he knew why
he was so madly in love with you. You broke apart from the passionate kiss.
“Found You” he said a smile
plastered on his face “My precious moon light, my soulmate, my dagger”
Ok, so not sure if i like this one but I’m gonna post it anyway just in case it’s not as bad as I think it is, yo does that even make sense?
WARNING: this fic/series contains talk about suicide, self-harm, violence, alcohol abuse, and more. If you don’t agree with something, have issues with something or you are struggling with anything mentioned, please know you have full control of what you read. As always I’m open to discussion about anything, and don’t mind hearing your opinions even if they differ from mine. Feel free to message me and I hope you enjoy.
Summary: After a failed suicide attempt, you find yourself trying to live again with the man who saved you and his best friend.
You had a plain life, but it was a life that you didn’t ask for nonetheless. No, nothing traumatic happened to you before and no one had treated you badly. Depression came without holding back. Your way of thinking would be considered ungrateful and dark. No one seemed to care about the pain you were going through even when it was obvious.
The amount of effort you put into pretending to be fine, did not satisfy anyone around you. You laughed at the stupidity of the world that thought it was beautiful.
It was ugly and merciless. After years of so called coping, you had finally had enough. You didn’t even care to ask how it got to this point.
I hope you’re doing okay up there. Partying with the Astrals no doubt? There’s no way your lurking around this hell whole of a world. Eos is pretty… messed up at the moment. I’m glad you don’t have to witness it. Though, I think you’d take down the Empire single handedly when Insomnia fell. I can’t stop thinking about the garage. Ugh. You’d be more pissed than me. Once all this crap gets sorted out, I’ll open the shop again. Maybe convince Cindy to work with me. I know you’d like that. If she’s too preoccupied, I can probably go solo. Maybe I should draw a picture of you and pin it to the wall. Boom. Not solo anymore, right? That sounded more depressing than intended, I’m sorry. I can see your disappointed stare now.
Summary: Even if it’s just for a moment, you make me forget all the hard things. Word Count: 1,729 Genre: fluff, angst Prompt: Choi “S.Coups” Seungcheol + Beach TW: none i can think of! tell me if you need anything tagged
A/N: im not in a good place right now and i needed to get some stuff off my chest. kind of a continuation of seungcheol’s highschool!au. i hope this is able to help you guys if you needed something like this as much as i do.
Summary: Y/N and Bucky both have issues sleeping and get to know each other in the late hours
Authors Note: This got a little intense in the beginning but I hope the eventual fluff makes up for it. I hope you guys like it, sorry it took so long to post, but Part 5 should follow quickly. Also, italics are either flashback/memories or internal thoughts, Cheers <3
The condensation sparkles as it slides down your water glass, illuminated by the glowing green light of the stove clock.
You sit silent and unmoving in the darkness, your gaze focused on the shimmering water droplets caressing your glass, your mind separate, swimming with memories that you try to forget.
Ward screams at you, asking questions that you don’t know answers to. You feel his knuckles make contact with your cheek, the taste of rust filling your mouth. “All this because I turned you down for a date? Ward, seriously, have some pride.” You laugh as his knuckles slam into your abdomen, knocking the laugh out of your lungs.
You regain control and spit the mix of blood and saliva pooling in your mouth straight in his face, spattering his pale skin with red. “You’re a lot tougher than I ever thought you’d be sweetheart” He kneels down, grabbing your jaw and forcing your gaze to connect with his, his eyes burning with malice, “But I will break you, I will make you burn from the inside, mark my words, I will make you suffer until I kill you myself.”
He releases you with force, throwing you against the floor. His head cocks slightly to the guard at your cell door, never removing his malicious gaze from you, “I want her on two weeks of forced expulsion. We’ll see how eager you are to talk when you starve with a full stomach.” You roll your eyes, calling Ward on his bluff “What the fuck does that mean? I hate to tell you Ward, but ever since you became a Hydra thug, your true idiocy has become evident” The guard nods to Ward, as he smirks at you and turns to walk away, not responding to your taunt.
Your stomach growls pulling you briefly from your memories, you consider moving from your perch on the island barstool. Then the wave of nausea crashes over you. You breathe gently, regaining control. You sip your water slowly and deliberately.
You hear a muffled sound from down the hall, your ears perking up, head turning towards the bizarre disturbance. Your first movement in an hour causes you to feel stiff; you stifle a yawn as you slowly stretch, listening for further sounds. Yet your ears are met with none. You sigh, sinking back into the sluggish memories.
Bent double in the corner of your cell, you retch again, shaking violently as your body tries feebly, in it’s exhausted state, to rid itself of yet another meal. Your abdominal muscles scream in protest as they twist again, driving up the last bit of the meal that had been force-fed to you, followed by a heavy dosage of ipecac.
For two weeks this had been the process. Beaten and questioned by Ward, force-fed a semblance of a meal, then an involuntary purging. Starve with a full stomach. Now you understood. This is the kind of fresh hell that only Grant Ward would be fucked up enough to think of.
Your insides burn, the muscles exhausted from the aggressive retching movements, your esophagus raw from the burn of the bile. Is this what it feels like to be… to be broken?
A dark figure catches the corner of your eye, your breath catching sharply in your chest as the kitchen light is flicked on to reveal a disheveled looking Bucky in the doorway. His long brunette locks are tousled, sticking out in odd directions. A faint sheen of sweat glistens on his forehead. Not just his forehead, you realize, your eyes quickly drinking in his full appearance, his bare chest completely exposed, glistening with sweat, every muscle seems to shine as he steps cautiously into the light, his loose fitting sweatpants just barely hugging his hips, looking as if a single inch more would reveal his manhood.
Your head swims as you take in his appearance. “Sorry, I didn’t know anyone was in here,” he grumbles, “would have… uh… would have grabbed a shirt” his face suddenly flushes as he takes in your expression, you gain an abrupt realization of the gape painted across your face and immediately snap your eyes away from his chest and up to his eyes… his intense, deep, blue eyes… crap.
You look away and stare hard at the water glass in front of you. “No, I’m sorry. I couldn’t sleep. I just… I wanted…” You try to find words in your swimming head, “Water. “ you finish lamely, holding up the glass in your hand. He walks into the kitchen, making moves through the cabinets. He puts water on to boil then begins rifling through the fridge.
You can’t help but admire the smoothness of his back, each muscle flexing as he bends up and down, squatting and searching through the shelves for something to eat. “Have you eaten?” he asks, his head still in the fridge. “What was that?” You jump, realizing that he had just asked you a question.
He abandons his fridge pillaging to look at you. “When was the last time you ate?” “I’m not hungry” you respond, biting slightly at the corner of your bottom lip. He stares at you for a moment his eye flicking briefly toward your mouth before snapping back to your eyes. “That’s not what I asked.” He pressed sternly, as if scolding a child. “I don’t know, I can’t remember, earlier today… I’m not hungry”
The whistle of the teakettle interrupts your weak lie, drawing his attention to the stove. You look around the room, searching for a natural excuse to exit, and yet, you don’t want to leave, not with him here. “Here” He places a mug in front of you “What is this?” you question looking at him with confusion as he goes back to his cabinet rummaging. “Tea.” He answers flatly. “Yes, I know its tea, but why… why did you? I don’t need tea.”
He stops, smiling slightly, turning around to lean forward on the island counter, eyes on yours, causing your breath to catch in your throat. “Everybody needs tea. Tea makes you feel better. It will help you sleep, keep the nightmares away” He nods as you tentatively take a sip and he turns back to his activity on the other countertop.
“How do you know… nightmares…” you wince slightly, your voice breaking, “how do you know I have nightmares” “Everybody has nightmares.” He says slowly, his back still to you as his hands move across the counter top. He turns around silently placing a peanut butter and jelly in front of you on a white paper towel.
You stare at it, as he leans back against the counter top, gaging your response as he slowly drinks his own mug of tea. “Thank you” you whisper, reaching for the sandwich and tearing off a small corner before tentatively putting the little piece to your lips. “Eat slow,” he suggests, smiling a little, “it makes it easier.”
You proceed cautiously, tearing off piece after piece, chewing slowly before forcing yourself to swallow. Bucky watches you silently; taking occasional sips of his tea. You finally finish the sandwich and take a deep breath, processing the feeling of being full and resisting the nausea that threatens you. You take your mug in your hands, turning your knees away from the island so as to look at Bucky dead on.
He smirks slightly from behind his mug, his eyes sparkling as a strand of hair falls into them. “Feel better?” “Much. Thanks. For the sandwich, the tea… the applesauce…” You stare at him “How… how do you know? About the nightmares, the food, that applesauce would help, what’d they… what happened?” He takes a measured breath, looking down at your bare feet, before flicking his gaze back up to meet yours. “I used to work for hydra.” He answers calmly.
You feel the heat of the mug leave your hands as your fingertips lose contact. Your head seems to swim slightly only to be steadied by the crash of the breaking china as it hits the tile floor, splashing hot tea up onto your toes. “Jesus, Y/N” Bucky exclaims as he moves to grab a towel to clean up your mess.
You barely hear him, your heart pounding in your ears, memories of your imprisonment flashing through your head. Your main focus is on escaping, on getting away from this Hydra agent before every horror resurfaces. Your thinking is hazy as your bare feet make contact with the floor, stepping directly in the radius of the broken shards of china as you swiftly move towards the door, looking to escape, feeling the shards of the broken cup rip into the soles of your feet.
You cry out quietly in pain as you realize the effect of your steps. “What are you… What are you doing? Y/N, your feet.” Bucky cries out in shock and concern, worry evident in his raised tone “Y/N, stop.” He moves forward, catching you around the waist with his fleshy forearm, pulling you back into him as his metal arm sweeps under your knees to lift you into a cradled position.
You curl in on yourself, the pain of your feet breaking through the wall of shock that was pumping adrenaline through your system. You feel a twist in the pit of your stomach as if Ward’s blows were making contact once again. You whimper and try to twist out of his arms, pushing weakly against his bare chest.
Bucky places you gently on the counter top, turning to pull a first aid kit from one of the cabinets and swiftly takes your feet into his hands. You try to yank your feet back but he holds them in place, gently, but firmly. He begins pulling bits of china out of your left foot, concentration etched on his face. “I was brainwashed. They took me. I was in the war with Steve, bout 70 or so years ago now.”
He speaks plainly, factually, his focus centered on the task at hand. “I was lost during a mission, thought for dead. Hydra found me, they turned me into a super soldier, like Cap, but…. But worse. They brainwashed me, took everything, everything that made me feel like me… everything that made me human. I became Hydra’s trained attack dog. Steve found me about a year ago. Pulled me out of it.”
He looks up at you, holding your now bandaged left foot gingerly in his hands, blue eyes burrowing into you; “There isn’t a day where I’m not haunted by what I’ve done. We all have our shadows, our pasts, it may be a part of who we are, but it does not define us.” He lets your foot drop and goes to work on the other one.
You allow him to take it without resistance, noticing the warm roughness of his hands as his fingers slide over your skin. Many seconds of silence pass as he finishes and wraps your second foot in a bandage, fingers gliding over it more gently than you could have imagined for a man of his build. He rises from his knees in front of you, eye level with you from your position atop the counter top.
He’s very close, you think, much to close. His hips are set an inch or two in front of your split knees. If he takes a step forward he would be placed between your legs… much… to… close. “I’m sorry.” You blurt out, your face flushing as you nervously pull at the hem of your sleep shorts, painfully aware of how little they cover. “I shouldn’t have assumed, of course you wouldn’t still be involved with Hydra, I should have… I didn’t mean… I’m sorry. Bucky, I’m really sorry.”
A small smile flashes across his face at the sound of his name. “I know, don’t worry about it.” He shrugs, looking unconcerned “it’s not the first time, not the last.” He stares at you for a minute, taking in your whole appearance, his teeth subconsciously pulling against his top lip. He moves slowly, stepping forward between your knees. A sudden rush of heat in your core alerts you to how close he actually is.
His hands move forward to rest on your hips, just below the delicate curve of your waist. You feel the burn of your skin under his grasp. “Here, let me help you down” You nod, placing your hands on top of his shoulders, his muscles tensing under your touch. You feel the small flinch of his left arm as your pinky grazes against the scar tissue that connects his metal arm to flesh, the skin pink and puckered, and sensitive based on the reaction of the super soldier beneath your fingers.
He slowly lifts you up off the counter and gingerly places you onto your feet, supporting most of your weight as you wince at the contact. Finally you stand erect before him, once again a foot shorter. You make a small movement to walk sideways then wince and sway before his arms wrap around your waist, steadying you on your feet.
“Woah there, you alright?” he looks down at you, eyes full of apprehension. “Yeah, I’m good. Thank you, Bucky, for everything” and with that you dislodge yourself from his arms and begin your delicate steps towards the door. Leaving him smiling to himself in the kitchen, the sound of his name on your lips still hanging in the air.