The way his lips twitch.
The way his neck slopes.
The way he says 'Hello!'
The way he leans in for a kiss.
The way he smirks when he gets something right.
The wave of familiarity on his face when a song he knows comes along.
The way he chuckles.
The way he nuzzles on my shoulder.
The way his fingers search for mine, every time.
The way his hair is ruffled so perfectly.
The way he drives stick with my fingers beneath his.
The way he switches places towards the traffic side.
The way he swipes hair off my face.
The roughness of his palm.
The flavor of nicotine on his lips.
The smooth of his wrist.
The sigh of his exasperation.
The expertise of lighting his cigarette.
The sulky three year old hidden within the stable twenty five year old.
The patience of a hundred year old when I mess up.
The cranky restlessness.
The look of approval in his eyes even before my "How do I look?"
The first good mornings.
The 'Okay I am sorry' pouts.
The random 'I miss you's.
The curve of his moustache.
The urgency laced with impatience in the kiss after a long time apart.
The sensitivity of extending the impatient kiss.
The last good nights.
The sleepy 'I love you's.
Him.
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PS: So when does your heart skip a beat?
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