Phillip couldn't deny that he likes to see you in his clothes: hoodies, T-shirts, trousers. But damn it, when he can't find his fucking shirt in the morning, he breaks all the closets, he knows for sure that his pretty little thing is currently cooling off in his work shirt, sprawled on the couch in the living room in front of the TV. Well... how could he be mad at you when you looked so attractive?

Shadows have long seen through this feature. No, it's not that they intentionally memorize what their commander's casual clothes look like. They could just tell exactly which piece of your wardrobe belonged to Graves and not to you. It was funny and cute to some extent.

Friday morning at the base begins as usual: getting up, showering, breakfast, training. But these rules do not work for everyone, as it was not difficult to guess. Oz was doing the paperwork today, which meant that Phillip was currently training shadows in the gym, since it wasn't the most summer weather outside.

Taking your time getting ready, you took the first hoodie you came across from Graves' shelf and headed to the right floor for a portion of morning affection. Walking through the crowded corridors, you obviously attracted a lot of attention. All eyes were on your back, even when you entered the gym. Phillip was no exception either. Oh, of course, of course he knew why everyone was looking at you. A fucking sweatshirt with his name and surname printed in large letters on the back. You didn't pay attention to it when you put it on.

"Why is everyone staring at me so strangely? Do I look bad?" you looked at Graves in disbelief, trying to figure out the reason.

"Babe, I think you should start looking at what's written on my clothes before putting them on." a smile played on the man's lips as he adjusted your hood. "Well, at least now there's no doubt who you belong to."