On his bed, in a newly wrapped box is a wool sweater, and beside it, a small sheep plush toy, the kind with a zipper to remove its' coat. The label has been torn off, and the attached, new sticker has the writing ' From Lang.'.
"Oh, you sly dog..."
Once unboxed, he lays the sweater out on his rumpled bedsheets. The soft weaving is an inoffensive Carolina blue--better than his dull hoodies, but not overdone. Phoenix slips off his shirt to pull the sweat on, and it fits comfortably over his skin.
He stretches his arms out and looks at the sleeves. It's been a long time since someone like this gave him a sweater as a present...
This time there's no monogrammed heart or strange game of bait-and-switch. He picks up the plush sheep and squeezes it, briefly startled when it makes a squeaky toy noise.
He likes this sweater a lot more.












