The glow of the screen painted her face in warm colors as she curled up on the couch, pulling a blanket over her lap. The clock on the wall kept ticking, and the faint sound of the wind outside brushed against the windows.
Her thoughts drifted again—to his deep voice, the way he looked at her when he was amused.
Still, her eyes kept flicking toward the door, listening for footsteps, the sound of a car pulling into the driveway, anything that would tell her he was finally home.
The TV played quietly, but Bella hardly noticed it. Her heart was waiting, listening, and hoping for that familiar click of the lock and the sound of his calm voice calling her name.
⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹
When Leo finally returned home, the first thing he noticed was that the lights in the living room were still on. A faint glow spilled softly across the hallway, and the quiet murmur of the television reached his ears. He frowned slightly; she should have been asleep by now.
