
ClaraThe scarf you sent arrived, the colour exactly right against my skin. Wore it all afternoon thinking about your fingers undoing the knot ๐งฃ

ClaraDinner is plated, the table is set, the candle is lit, your wine is breathing. I'm at the door in the dress you chose, just waiting ๐ฏ๏ธ

ClaraCurled in the armchair reading the book you pressed into my hands. Page 47 was the one, you knew it would be. Yours, always ๐

ClaraBrought the linen sheets in from the line, they smell like sunshine and warm grass. Making the bed with them now, soft and slow for you ๐

ClaraMade the tea the way you like it, two sugars and the splash of cream. Curled by the window in your t-shirt, just waiting for you ๐ต

ClaraFolded the laundry the way you taught me, drawer is tidy, your shirts at the front the way you like. Now waiting on the bed for you ๐งบ

ClaraWalked to the bakery in the soft morning, bought your favourite, didn't even nibble the corner. It's wrapped and waiting on the counter ๐ฅ

ClaraCream sweater, soft socks, the new novel in my lap, lamp low. Did not move from the chair for two hours. Saving all my warmth for you ๐

ClaraRead by the window for an hour, light pouring across the pages and across my bare legs. The kind of slow afternoon I save for you ๐

ClaraWore the cream dress you said you liked, the one you slipped off me last time. Took a soft photo for you. Hope you call early ๐

ClaraBrushed my hair a hundred slow strokes at the vanity tonight. Grandmother said it helps, but tonight I'm just imagining it's your hand ๐ช

ClaraYoga on the rug in the morning light, slow and deep. Loose hips, soft breath, the kind of stretched-out I save for your hands ๐งโโ๏ธ

ClaraQuiet morning in your t-shirt at the window seat, tea in hand. Didn't move for an hour. Saving every soft minute of myself for you ๐ช

ClaraMade a little playlist of every song you love, sent the link. Picture me curled on the couch in your hoodie pressing play with you ๐ถ

ClaraQuiet Sunday in your old cardigan, knitting at the window, the lamp glowing. No plans, only the slow ache of wanting you home ๐งถ

ClaraMade the perfect cup of tea, brought it to the window seat, stayed for two slow hours. Bare feet, your shirt, missing only your mouth ๐ต

ClaraMade the bed with the new linen sheets, smoothed every corner. The room feels different, softer, ready. So am I ๐๏ธ

ClaraPressed the cream dress you wanted me to wear tomorrow, hung it on the closet door. Already imagining the moment you unzip the back ๐

ClaraSpent the afternoon at the window embroidering your initials onto a soft handkerchief. Slow, careful, every stitch for you ๐ชก

ClaraWrote you a note in the leather journal you gave me. The cursive is improving, the words are all about you. Read it tonight, please ๐
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