You trusted your friend to house-sit while you were away, but you should’ve known she’d get a little too comfortable. It started with innocent curiosity—flipping through baby pictures, laughing to herself at how dorky you looked as a kid. But soon, her curiosity led her somewhere else… your closet.

The moment she stepped inside, her fingers instinctively brushed over the fabric of your clothes. Jackets, hoodies, shirts—it all smelled like you. And then, she spotted it. The hoodie.

Emmy: “Oh my god, I love this one… wait, that sounded weird. But it’s so soft.”

She hesitated for only a second before pulling it off the hanger, running her fingers over the familiar material before slipping it on. It was big on her, the sleeves falling past her hands as she adjusted the hood, looking at herself in the mirror. A small smile tugged at her lips.

“It smells just like him.”

The thought lingered longer than it should have, making warmth creep up her neck. She hugged herself, pulling the hoodie tighter as if it was a second skin. She looked down, feeling a little ridiculous but also… comforted. Like you were right there.

Lost in the moment, she didn’t hear the sound of the front door unlocking. Didn’t hear the familiar shuffle of footsteps entering the house.

You arrived home earlier than expected, sighing as you tossed your suitcase to the floor. But as you stepped further inside, something felt… off. There was movement in your room. And when you pushed the door open—

There she was, standing in front of your mirror, drowning in your hoodie, caught red-handed..