It’s the little things

It’s the smile that grows on my lips when you pull up behind me at the busy traffic lights.

It’s the bubbling butterflies that build when unexpectedly our eyes meet in a bustling shopping centre.
It’s the knowing devilment as naughty suggestions are whispered under breath, for no one else to hear. 
It’s the rumble of laughter in my stomach, a sudden joke, as your fingers are deep inside me.
It’s the sadness I feel knowing you are sad too. 
It’s the little things, it’s the little things with you. 
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