and your eyes look like coming home
— jaddison’s reunion after addison comes home from her seattle trip, told through the five senses.
she feels her heart skip a beat once she catches sight of him at the airport terminal—she’s only been gone a week but she’s missed him and their son for what feels like much longer. jake looks the same as she left, with his hair and beard grown out. he’s in his usual button down and jeans, his shirt unbuttoned one button too many and the sleeves rolled up. she knows they look odd together, with his casual wear and her pencil skirt and heels, but somehow she doesn’t mind it one bit.
the first thing jake does when she’s within arms reach is pull her close, addison reveling in his familiar touch, the way his arms seem to settle around her waist like they belong there. he’s warm and firm against her and she cant believe how much she’s missed him as she breathes in his scent. she knows what she smells like—some ungodly combination of chanel perfume and airport. but jake smells like home, like the coffee he loves to drink in the mornings and his musky aftershave that tells her he tried to look presentable before coming to the airport to meet her. the idea makes her feel giddy somehow, her husband of eight years now had been excited to see her. she grins, and his grip on her loosens just enough so she can lean her head up to kiss him.
he tastes like coffee—his favorite brew with half and half and creamer. there’s probably a travel mug full of it in their car that she’ll probably steal sips from on the way home despite preferring her coffee black. once their lips have parted from one another—their foreheads pressed against each other as they try to catch their breath as always, and addison hears jake murmur, “i’ve missed you” against her lips she knows she’s home.