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“Is that Nate’s shirt?” Felix barked as he walked into the kitchen, eyebrows wiggling suggestively.
“What? No, of course not- why would you think that? I wear flannel all the time,” Anya sputtered, self consciously tugging the open, dark-green button-up around her.
“Anya,” Felix drawled. “I have never once seen you wear something like that. And even if you had, I’m pretty certain you would have at least bought it in your own size! You’re practically drowning in it!”
She felt her cheeks grow flushed, “I have no idea what you’re talking about, I wear flannel all the time.”
She had, in fact, never worn flannel a day in her life.
Felix stared her down, his grin large as he raised an eyebrow, silently calling her bluff. She grabbed her cup of tea and traipsed past him. Just as she was about to leave the room, she turned, scrunched her face, and stuck her tongue out at him before hastening down the hallway. She could hear Felix roar in laughter as she tried to find another spot to relax.
She wandered down the hall, loosely holding her cup of tea and keeping her focus on her feet. A sudden jolt to her shoulder caused her to tightly grip her cup and look for the offending passerby. Her eyes snapped up to meet Adam’s tense gaze.
“My apologies… detective.” he slowed his words, eyes narrowing as they scanned her outer layer.
“Sorry, I should have been paying more attention,” she squirmed under his scrutiny. If she hadn’t known any better, she would have sworn she saw a glimmer of a smirk dance across his face.
“Is that a new shirt?” His face its usual sternness, but for the gleam in his eyes.
“Oh, I uh-yeah,” she racked her brain for excuses, eyebrows pinching together. “I just uh, found it in the back of my closet, so…”
He nodded his head, and turned to leave, “Have a nice day, detective.”
“Yeah, you too,” she muttered as she continued on her way to find solitude.
She rounded the corner, cup now cradled and eyes alert. Suddenly in search of some fresh air, she found herself being drawn to the balcony. Coming up on the balcony doors, she found them already opened. As she stepped out, she noticed Mason leaning against the rail, cigarette lazily hanging from his lips. He shifted his eyes to look at her, but made no further acknowledgement of her presence other than putting out the cigarette. They stood in a comfortable silence, both appreciating the stillness that this view gave them. After a while, she began to notice how he kept stealing glances at her. The corner of his mouth began to languidly pull upwards, and she could sense a quip coming her way.
“I didn’t take you for someone who would kiss and tell,” he said, turning his face towards her.
“I- what? What are you talking about?” Anya replied, still taken aback by his forwardness.
He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow as his eyes pointedly shifted over the extra layer she wore. Finding herself at a loss for words, a blush tinted her cheeks.
“His favorite shirt too? Damn, he must have it bad,” his smirk widened. “Or maybe you were just that good.”
“Mason!” Her blush now present in all its abashed glory. “We never- We didn’t- I haven’t- No!” She continued to fumble for an explanation until Mason cracked a smile and interjected.
“Hey, I probably would have let you wear my favorite shirt too if I knew you would have looked this good in it.”
With that, she huffed out a nervous laugh and escaped from the balcony. She roamed the hallways of the warehouse before stopping in front of a familiar welcoming site. Opening the doors to the library, she saw Nate pouring over a book, deeply engrossed in its pages. The soft click of the door shutting behind her caught his attention. As he met her eyes, a smile immediately graced his soft features.
“Anya,” he fondly greeted her. It was then that his eyes drifted over her. Cup still in hand, she stood near the entrance of the room, trying to take up as little space as possible like she normally would. This time however, she was in his shirt. His favorite shirt. His smile grew as his gaze lingered on her.
“Is that my shirt?” He teasingly asked.
She rolled her eyes and laughed. “I was just trying to return it to you.”
“By looking ever so enticing in it?” He drew his bottom lip in, softly biting it in an attempt to stifle his grin.
“Guilty,” she smiled as she settled down next to him on the couch.
“Well, I guess that’s just another reason why it’s my favorite shirt… undoubtedly, the best reason, I must say,” he smiled down at her as she shifted her face away, hiding behind her cup of tea.
“Careful,” she said between sips. “I just might not give it back if you keep that up.”
“It looks far better on you anyway,” he whispered, slipping an arm over her shoulders and playing with the fabric. She leaned into him and he returned to his book, both enjoying each other’s presence and the contented silence that settled over them.