1 for the writing prompts
Prompt: "is that my shirt?" "you mean our shirt?" - from this prompt list
for FinnPetra, obviously. uh, pretend they’re already dating.
Petra was only gone from the room a few minutes, but in that short time, Finneas had somehow made his way into her old oversized camp sweatshirt.
Oversized for her, of course. Only slightly snug on him.
"Is that my shirt?" she demanded.
"I don't know, is it?" Finneas replied, trying, and failing, to suppress a smirk as he leaned back into the bed, almost as if posing.
"Yes, it is," Petra insisted, joining him on the bed making a swipe for his sleeve.
He quickly held his arm out of her reach. "Where did you get it?"
"Camp. I bought it from the shop the last year we—" Her voice trailed off as her memory cleared. "Oh, no. I didn't. You did. You lent it to me on that last night when we were stargazing and I was cold."
"And you never gave it back." Finneas shook his head in mock disapproval. "Is that how you thank me?"
"I'm sure I was going to," Petra defended. "But my mom came to pick us up early the next morning and I had to rush to make sure Val didn't forget anything in their cabin and I guess I forgot."
"You know what?" Petra said. "Take it. It's about time you had it back."
"No, keep it," he protested, starting to pull it over his head. "You've had it for so long already, it's practically yours at this point."
Petra stopped him, placing her hand over his. "You bought it. It is your shirt."
"No," he said, intertwining his fingers into hers. A soft giggle escaped her lips as he pulled the sweatshirt's sleeve over both their hands. "It's our shirt."