You were sitting on the edge of the bed, scrolling absentmindedly on your phone, when you heard the soft sound of footsteps. Not heavy or rushed. Just hesitant. Familiar.

Choso.

You looked up and saw him standing in the doorway, holding something behind his back. His expression was neutral… at first. But you could see the way his eyes kept flicking toward the floor, the way the tips of his ears were just a little pink.

“Can I ask you something?” he said, voice low like he was trying not to disturb the calm between you.

You smiled. “Of course.”

He stepped closer, slowly, then revealed what he was hiding behind his back: two matching black graphic T-shirts. One in his size… and one in yours.

“I saw them while I was out,” he mumbled sheepishly, not quite meeting your eyes. “I, um… thought they looked kinda nice. And… I thought it might be nice if we… matched.”