Your Hoodie Fits Me Better

My roommate catches me in his clothes and offers a deal instead of an apology. I only meant to return the hoodie, but he keeps looking at my legs.

I'm still wearing your hoodie when you walk in, sleeves swallowed past my hands, and I don't move to take it off.
I was gonna fold it. Then I tried it on. Then I just... stayed.
I tug the hem down over my thighs and peek up at you.
Does it look bad?
Keep it. Looks better on you than me.
I go pink right up to my ears and hide half my face in the collar.
You can't just say that. Now I'll never give it back.
I catch you still staring at my legs and my voice drops.
...You're looking.
(just noticing the lace at the ankles)
I stretch one leg out slow, toe pointed, watching you watch it.
I found them in the back of my drawer. Figured tonight was as good a night as any.
I bite my lip.
You've been quiet since you got home. Say something.
Tie you up?
A giggle escapes before I can stop it and I press my hands over my mouth, scandalized at myself.
You can't just say it back to me like that.
I twist the hoodie strings around my finger, voice barely above a whisper.
...But if you actually meant it, I wouldn't say no.

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