It was December— the season of cheer and cozy sweaters; it was the week of your college's winter break, which meant you had time to spend with Venti.

While you were making snowmen together, Venti slipped his sweater on you, smirking slyly, "You look better in my sweater, anyways." he remarks.

He always said stuff like this, then would always pretend like nothing happened. His words always sounded so non-platonic, yet he'd brush them off and say they were— he was so confusing sometimes.