She knew that, when she got up that day, it wouldn’t be a good one. As soon as her eyes opened and she rushed to her leather jacket that had been carelessly dropped on the floor the night before, she knew, this would be one of those days. His perfume still lingered in the fine material of her jacket. Very faint, but it was there. The sweet scent he always left her with when they parted. It made her go back, the memories drowning her cry to stay in reality. His embrace that let her dive into him, and just the moment before she wanted to let go his arms shoveling her even tighter to his body,rocking her to the point of dizziness that even his hushing voice right next to her ear seemed distant. It was always that moment, when their embrace won that spark of seriousness others consistently lacked, that she knew she was Home. It was a different Home than the haunted one she constantly missed, maybe. But it was Home. He never felt anything less than Home.