Candles

The house is quieter than usual when he's not around. The only thing that can be heard is the soft humming of the fan over head. Her eyes flicker around, looking from room to room, expecting to see him there. She keeps all the lights off as she travels to their room. She's used to the darkness of the quaint apartment now. The door opens with a soft push, and closes when her heel hits the door. She feels for the matches and lights the cinnamon candle on his side of the bed. She crawls across the messed up sheets from this mornings events of love, and lights the vanilla scented one on her side. She kicks off her shoes and falls back against the bed, inhaling the smell of both candles. The scent is a little odd at first, but she settles back into the bed and waits. Waits for him to come. Waits for the voices to stop waging the daily war in her head. She rolls onto his side of the mattress, the smell of cologne and mint lingering on the sheets. The voices quiet when the front door opens. The footsteps travel into the kitchen, then the microwave begins to beep. She lets out a breath she didn't realize she was holding, and smiles. He's home. His foot falls thud against the hardwood floor, and pause at the door. It opens slowly, and his mop of hair appears in sight. Her smile widens along with his and he crawls in next to her quickly. He gathers her in his arms and sighs, kissing the top of her head. Everything in her relaxes, and she melts into him. The microwave beeps once again, but neither of them stir. Her hair curls around his finger and she looks up as he whispers, "I missed you, Angel."
Her heart melts. It always does.