The smell of him, like he just walked a mile in the rain to get to me. Every piece of this man is encompassing my senses, and the strange part is, I don’t think it’s the first time this has happened. The blanket on the park's ground. The way his hands wrap around a mug when we get coffee. The horrible bike riding and the way he makes me laugh, and even the way he frustrated me from the day we met. Fletcher’s always taken up space in my mind, but maybe this is the first time I’ve allowed him to stay there.
