❛ is that my shirt? ❜ — @destage ( buck )
thread worn and navy blue cotton caresses tabby's curves, ending at a brush of her mid-thigh. lafd emblazoned across the back and smelling like the man who'd worn it earlier that morning when they went out for breakfast. she wasn't expecting him back, out running errands with eddie and chris, leaving her his place to study. they'd only been out a few times, shared a few kisses, so when she gets caught wearing the shirt she'd found on his bed there's no stopping the blush that climbs her cheeks. she has no excuse, no coffee spilled on her own shirt, nothing aside from a search for comfort and relaxation. her own top and leggings folded neatly on the back of the couch.
❝ — yes, ❞ she offers hesitantly while she tries to think of some explanation that wouldn't stretch the truth too far. she wouldn't lie to him, even at the expense of her own embarrassment. ❝ you left it on the bed. ❞ she captures her bottom lip between her teeth and gives him a sheepish look, uncertain as to the nature of his reaction. finally she settles on the simple truth, ❝ i'm sorry, it's just that you left and i missed you, and it smells like you. ❞
