It's the scent that always comes first. The smell of a man who comes back from a long trip but with a shade of the expensive cologne he knows she loves so much.

Then, there's the sound. As quiet as he likes to think he is, she always hears him. Her front door creaks with the slightest move and the parquet of her bedroom is made of an old wood.

She's already awake at this moment but always stays still until she feels his soft touch, his hand reverently stroking her hair as he sits on her bed.

After that she begins to stir, slowly turning towards him and opens her eyes. A smile always reaches her lips at the sight of his stubble-covered cheeks and her hand appears from under the sheet to touch his face.

Eventually, he leans towards her and lets her taste him, at last. When his tongue and his teeth rediscover the skin of her white neck, she finally lets the forbidden name escape her lips.

"Ari."