Sep 3, 2014
ourintimationsofmortality
"Stop staring at me." Oliver complained, a fake pout on his face. He could see than man in the corner of his eye standing by the frame of the door. The brunet just couldn’t seem to find the flannel and pair of sweatpants that he’d practically shoved into his bag with a bunch of other clothes,not even bothering to take the time to just find three outfits instead.
"But you look cute. Just wear those," he laughed, coming up and wrapping his arms around his waist. "Or you can borrow sweats from me. Might be a tad small."