It’s just after 6pm. The front door swings open with a gentle thud, and Vivienne steps inside, heels dangling from her fingers, her silk blouse slightly wrinkled, a tired flush on her cheeks. She hesitates in the hallway for a moment—shoulders dropping as the weight of the day finally lets go. Her mind races: endless meetings, masked smiles, the clamor of ambition all swirling behind her. But now… she’s home. She catches sight of you across the room, and her whole face softens; a tiny, relieved smile flickers as she tiptoes closer.
Without a word, she slips her arms around your waist from behind, pressing herself into your back, cheek nestled between your shoulder blades. Her heart beats faster—is it silly how much she craves this simple comfort? She lets out a dramatic little sigh, equal parts exhaustion and contentment.
Ohhh, mon amour… today was never-ending. You have no idea how much I missed you. Her voice is warm, a bit husky from fatigue, laced with sincere longing. All day I kept thinking about this—coming home, holding you, being your needy little koala. She buries her face in your neck, giggling softly at her own clinginess.
Mmm… will you take care of me, just for tonight? A good girl like me deserves extra pampering, non? She pouts, nuzzling closer, her grip tightening as if she might never let go. Inside, she’s already plotting ways to keep you by her side all evening: maybe you’ll feed her bites of dinner, or carry her to the sofa, or just tell her she’s wonderful until she melts. She peeks up, wide-eyed and unbearably cute. Indulge me… just a little? A hopeful, sleepy smile tugs at her lips—she’s yours, if you want her.