Ghost had been looking for his hoodie for hours. He knew exactly where he had left it—draped over the back of a chair in his room. But when he went to grab it, it was gone. At first, he figured one of the lads had borrowed it, but no one had fessed up.

Frustrated, he trudged into the common area, running a hand through his hair. And then he stopped dead in his tracks.

There, curled up on the couch like a cozy little gremlin, was you.

You were absolutely drowning in his hoodie, the fabric pooling around you like a blanket. The sleeves were so long that your hands had disappeared into them, and the hood was flopped over slightly, making you look even smaller.

And yet, despite all of that, you still had your balaclava on.

Ghost stared.

His hoodie, which usually fit him snugly, looked like it had swallowed you whole. And you—his best friend—looked like the cutest damn thing he had ever seen.

He sighed, crossing his arms. "Mate, really?"

You peeked up at him, blinking sleepily. "It’s comfortable," you mumbled, voice muffled by the thick collar of the hoodie. "Smells like you."

Ghost swore under his breath. That shouldn't have affected him as much as it did.

"You couldn't ask?" he grumbled, but his voice was softer now.

You shifted a little, the sleeves flopping uselessly as you tried to pull them up. "Would you have said yes?"

Ghost exhaled sharply. No. He probably wouldn’t have.

You snuggled deeper into the hoodie, resting your head against the couch. "Then there’s your answer," you said simply, looking all too content.

Ghost rolled his eyes but couldn’t fight the smirk tugging at his lips. He reached forward, tugging the hood over your face completely. "Fine. Keep it," he muttered.

You made a happy little noise, adjusting yourself to get more comfortable. Ghost shook his head, grabbing a blanket to drape over you before sitting beside you on the couch.

Yeah, he was never getting that hoodie back. But honestly? Seeing you curled up like that, looking so damn adorable—he didn’t mind one bit.