bal 24, please (I'd love to see Mal in Ben's sweaters)
warm sweaters
When Ben opens the door, Mal doesn’t even bother with hello, she just makes a beeline for his dresser. It takes a few minutes of rummaging though the different drawers, but eventually she finds what he’s looking for.
She unzips her jacket and tosses it on a chair before tugging the sweater of her head. Her hairs a mess now, but at least she’s finally warm.
She sits on Ben’s bed and piles the blankets into her lap for extra warmth.
“You’re really not taking this whole changing seasons thing well, are you?” Ben looks at her like he’s studying her, like he’s mentally adding tasks to his to-do list. “Is it really that different on the Island?”
Mal shrugs. Sure, the Isle of the Lost isn’t exactly a tropical paradise. It’s always slightly too chilly and foggy and damp. It’s not a comfortable place to live. But the cold isn’t as crisp and biting as it is during autumn in Auradon.
Hence the need for sweaters. Lucky for her, Ben seems to have plenty.
“Tell me,” Mal plucks at a piece of fuzz on the sweater she just pulled on. It’s navy blue, with white reindeer and stars knitted into it, “where exactly do you buy reindeer sweaters?”
She’s teasing him, and honestly she kind of likes the sweater. First of all, it’s way warmer than her usual leather jackets, and probably a lot easier to clean. Second of all, it smells like whatever fancy soap Ben uses.
“Arendelle,” Ben answers. “They send them as diplomatic gifts every year.”
Mal nods. Reindeer sweaters from Arendelle, it makes sense.
“Am I every going to get that one back?” Ben asks.
Mal may or may not have a matching sweater with a geometric print sitting on her bed. It’s helpful when the temperature drops at night.
“Maybe in the spring,” she tells him. “Now are you ready for dinner?”
Ben holds out a hand to help her to her feet. Because his sweater’s a bit large for Mal, he gets a palmful of blue wool.
“Are you wearing that to dinner?” he asks. “It’s not purple.”
Mal pauses briefly to consider the importance of maintaining her aesthetic, then decides, “Who cares, it’s warm.”
Ben laughs, “I’m never definitely not getting that back.”
Mal shakes her head, “Probably not.”
“What if I send you some other sweaters? Ones that fit? Maybe some blankets too?” Ben’s a little concerned that she’ll slowly steal his entire wardrobe.
“Still no.”
