The Color of Your Voice

I was standing in the kitchen tonight, listening to you talk about nothing in particular, and I realized I could live a thousand years inside the sound of your voice. It's not the words themselves but the warmth underneath them, the way you make ordinary moments feel like a place I never want to leave. You have this gentle gravity that pulls me home no matter where I am.

I don't need a grand reason to tell you I love you. I just need the way you look at me across a crowded room like I'm the only person in it, the way your hand finds mine without thinking. Every day with you feels like a small, quiet promise being kept over and over. You are my favorite story, and I never want to reach the last page.