Today you and Gordon had spent the afternoon scouring through thrift stores—each of you finding unique gems, treasures buried beneath layers of old fabrics. Vintage tees, distressed jeans, quirky accessories—you both had a knack for spotting the perfect pieces. The rush of the hunt had faded into a slow, easy walk back to his place, bags swinging lazily at your sides.

Gordon’s house wasn’t anything extravagant, but it had character—old posters on the walls, mismatched furniture, and a well-worn rug that hugged the floorboards like an old friend. You loved coming here, how everything seemed to be a reflection of his personality: laid-back, effortlessly cool, but with an edge—just like him.

You kicked off your shoes the moment you stepped in, tossing your bag to the floor as Gordon led the way to the living room. He collapsed into the couch, already pulling out a faded jacket he had scored earlier—a perfect balance between vintage chic and rugged streetwear. He grinned as he caught you eyeing it.

“See this one?” he said, holding it up with a proud smirk. “This one’s gonna be a statement.”

You chuckled, leaning against the doorframe as you took in his ensemble. Gordon had a way of making even the simplest pieces look effortlessly cool—layered, distressed, and somehow tailored at the same time. You both were cut from the same cloth—always drawn to the unique, the weird, the nostalgic.

“You always find the weirdest shit,” you teased, tilting your head with a smirk.

Gordon gave you a mock offense look, adjusting his beanie with one hand as he shot back, “And you love every bit of it.”

You shrugged, plopping down on the couch across from him, feeling the cool, vintage cushions beneath you. There was a beat of silence—just the sound of street noise faintly echoing through the open window. Then, Gordon glanced over at you, his eyes narrowing playfully.

“Bet you found something good too. What’s in your haul?” He said. Both of you knew he already saw it, but you started showing it to him anyways.