Chapter Text
The sounds of keys jingling, the door opening and closing, and footsteps rouse you from your nap. Shenhe stops at the sight of you; on the sofa, positively drowning in her oversized hoodie, with a content post-nap stretch. Yet you jolt awake when your sleepy eyes notice her, shooting upright with reddening cheeks and excuses spilling from your lips. She just shrugs.
"It makes sense."
Sense? What makes sense? You know how Shenhe thinks — and how the most common things make no sense to her, yet the most straight-forward solutions to issues do, social rules be damned. Ah, wait; you follow now.
"You were cold, and simply took the nearest warm clothing," she explains when you ask anyway. "Why? Is that wrong?"
"Well, technically, it's your hoodie," you say with a small laugh. "You don't borrow my clothes either, right?"
Shenhe only pauses briefly to think, and hang her jacket in the hallway closet. "No, your clothes don't fit me."
Yeah, alright. You couldn't argue with that logic.
However, the next time she sees you in her hoodie, she gets confused. She could've sworn it had just been washed, dried and folded; neatly tucked back in her wardrobe on its own, lonely shelf. And she knows you have far more hoodies than she did; enough to always have one available, even with a full load of laundry in the basket. There's even one on the back of a dining chair! So why did you go out of your way to grab hers, from her room, rather than the closest and quickest option?
All she could really do is ask. So, she calls out your name.
"Hm?" You glance at her from your spot by the stove, wooden spoon in hand and still stirring. "What's up?"
"Why are you wearing my clothes again?"
You furrow your brow somewhat, gaze cast off to the side in thought — which only added up to her own confusion — and your answer doesn't help at all. "I thought I could?"
"Well, I don't mind it," Shenhe says, finding it hard to think of a reason why you couldn't — unless she is cold herself. Even then, she might just let you continue wearing it. You looked rather endearing in the oversized hoodie, after all, and there's this odd sense of warmth in her chest at the sight. It almost makes her want to cease questioning you and just enjoy it, but she wants to know and learn.
"Isn't it more logical to take your own, though?" she asks, pointing out the one hanging over the chair. "It's closer."
Now, just like the first time, your cheeks turn red and you avoid her eyes at all costs. "Uuuuhh.."
You mumble something as you turn back to the stove. She blinks and moves closer until she reaches the counter next to you. "Can you repeat that?"
"I said.. uh.. it's.. nicer.."
"Nicer?"
Shenhe eyes you up and down. "The fabric? Aren't yours the same?"
"No — I mean, yes. They are."
Now your entire face became red, and she starts to worry about your health. Are you feeling too warm with her hoodie on? Or are you getting sick? She doesn't get a chance to check your temperature, because you groan and hide your face in your hands. The spoon clatters in the pot.
"Hnggh... Okay, it's because it's your hoodie that it's nicer," you say, turning to face her despite your tomato-resembling self.
"That makes no sense."
"It's warm, it smells like you and — I don't know, it feels like a hug, you know?"
"I don't know," Shenhe replies. She doesn't like how you sigh and how crestfallen you look, turning away from her again. After a moment's silence to think — during which you lift the spoon to taste-test the sauce — her mind seems to connect the wires and she feels a little spark fly through her heart. "Oh, does that mean you'd like me to hug you?"
Bad timing — you nearly spit out the tiny lick of sauce and start coughing violently when some saliva goes down the wrong side of your throat. "What — what?!"
In an attempt to help, Shenhe smacks your back with her palm just a bit too roughly and you wince, pulling yourself together all that much faster so she wouldn't try it again. "Ahem. Sorry — what did you just say?"
"I asked if you'd like me to hug you," she repeats with the same, straight face as before. You search her eyes for any hint of teasing, but she is completely serious. All the more reason for your flusterings to return full-force, and you quickly busy yourself with the food again.
"I mean, I wouldn't say no," you mumble.
"So, you're saying yes?"
"I guess so."
You can't really gauge out her reaction since you absolutely refuse to look at her, and the only sound in the room comes from the stove for a solid moment or two. Then, a single word;
"Okay."
And a pair of strong arms sliding around your waist.