I was so tempted to go with HammerTime for this one but I didn't think I could pull a story from that. I typically start with the word then summon the story with it so just HammerTime would have been a little? Difficult I guess. I still like this one quite a bit though

Habit

Habits are hard to break. Biting your nails, clicking your pen while in deep thought or even chewing on the end of your pen. But those are considered bad habits. You are not sure if your habit is bad or not. Maybe bad for your sanity and wellbeing. At the same time it's comforting for a fleeting second when you forget you are alone.

Your routine hasn't changed much since he left. You wake up, eat toast in the car on your way to work, spend the next mind numbing six hours stocking shelves and answering inane questions. Then you come home, pull into the same reserved spot outside your apartment complex, take out your keys, open your door and call out with a toothy grin, "Honey, I'm home!" But lately your announcement of arrival has not been returned with a welcome home. Every time the silence and echo of your own voice hits your ears, your smile falls away and you're reminded that he is not there.

The chair in the corner is empty. He is not sitting there with this laptop and headphones working on a new song. His muffled thump, thump, thump from his music is not present. His shoes are not by the coffee table, kicked off halfhazardly on the way to the kitchen to grab a beer from the fridge. The bathroom sink is not covered in gel and body spray. Your bedroom seems empty without his CDs strewn about the dresser and desk and the empty energy drink cans from his late nights in front of his computer working. It's like every sign he ever lived there was gone.

Still, you find yourself calling out to him whenever you open the door. His presence in the apartment was so natural to you. You expected him to be there. You'd gotten used to his face being the first thing you see in the morning and the last thing you see at night. Sometimes you roll over expecting to see his eyes staring right back at you. Whispered sweet words passed between mouths as you kiss goodnight for the hundredth time, are replaced by silence and a long sigh from you. Only you.

You miss him, that's for sure. You miss him so much it hurts and you want to throw up from all the painful twisting in your stomach. You want to fall into his arms, hold him close and stay like that until you forget he was ever gone to begin with. You miss the feel of his fingers in your hair as he hums a bassline making it sound sweeter than you'd even known was possible. You miss the beat of his heart seemingly synching with your own as you lie tangled, out of breath and in total bliss.

You want him back with you and that's all you think about. You think it in the morning when you get dressed in silence. You think it on your lunch break when you'd read through the texts he'd sent you while you were away from your phone. You think it on your drive home and you're thinking it now as you climb the stairs to your front door. Wishing with all of your heart that the apartment on the other side wasn't empty. You unlock the door, push it open and with eyes screwed shut you call out.

"Honey, I'm home!" You let out a long breath you'd been holding in and wait for a heartbeat, knowing that when you open your eyes you will be alone. Until…

"Welcome home, dear." Rings in your ears so sweetly you nearly drop to your knees and cry right there in the doorway.

Your eyes snap open and there he is, leaning against the door frame between the living room and the kitchen, beer in hand, smiling at you in the way that makes your heart skip a beat. He's here and for a moment you think you're dreaming. He quirks his eyebrow and chuckles.

"Well aren't you going to welcome me home now?" He asks.

You drop your keys, barely remembering to push the door closed behind you, and practically fly across the room and into his arms. As smooth as ever, he stops you from spilling his beer and sets it down on the table beside the couch. You cling to him. His shirt clenched in your hands, your face pressed against his shoulder. His smell, voice, warmth, even the faded color of his favorite shirt, invades all of your senses until you're dizzy in the most delightful way.

He's here. He's not supposed to be here but he is. He's supposed to be away for another two months but instead he's here and you don't know why but you don't care. He's here and he's holding you and that's all the matters to you right now. The rest of the world has melted away and all you see is him.

"I take it you're happy to see me." He says, sliding his hand from the top of your head to the small of your back making you shiver.

"Happy." You respond, still coming down from the adrenaline rush from seeing him so unexpectedly. "How are you here?"

"I missed you too much. I needed to see you so I put everything on hold to come back for a weekend visit." His words are made sweeter by the kisses he's pressing to your cheeks and forehead.

"So you do have to go back then?"

"Unfortunately. But let's pretend that isn't true for a few days, ok?"

You nod and stand on your toes while pulling on the collar of his shirt until your lips are pressed together. You can feel his smile against your lips and the dizziness rushes over you once more. The sick feeling you'd had for the last several weeks is replaced by butterflies that make your whole body tingle.

"Are you hungry?" You ask, keeping your face in kissing proximity to his.

"Starving."

"Takeout?"

"After."

"After?"

Your question is answered as he laces his fingers with yours and pulls you down the hall toward your bedroom. Habits are hard to break and you've decided yours in not a bad one. It may hurt sometimes when you don't get a response but every greeting unanswered puts you one day closer to the day he returns for good. So you will continue to call out to him and wait until he's there to respond.

I always hate my endings but w/e I'm too tired to care right now