At the moment, because of the time that my classes are ending, Zane is in charge of dinner. I have been feeling it lately, the fuzzy feeling when I open the door and see Zane cooking or waiting for me. It is like something is gripping my heart and gently squeezing it. I have never felt anything like this before that is why I cannot place the feeling or give the specific name of the emotion.
“Welcome home.” Zane called from the kitchen when I opened the door after a long day at school with laboratory reports and requirements.
I paused when I heard “home” and felt that fuzzy feeling again. I shook my head and closed the door. My routine is closing the door, putting the keys of the apartment and cars on the nearby surface, remove my shoes, put down my bag in
