Crap. I need to find a pair. You think to yourself as you search through all of his drawers. Nothing. Not a single pair to be found. You turn around and look across the mess of a room. You barely manage to hold in the joy that sweeps you as you find a pair laying on the ground across the room. However, the excitement is soon diminished when you realise upon picking it up that they are used and unclean, marked by the faint sweat stains and the slight odour arising.
"I can't go out there without this." You whisper to no one. Closing your eyes, you swiftly put them on. As grossed out as you were at the thought, you found it slightly amusing. Making your way over to his bed, you pick up a pair of somewhat clean jeans and a white tee-shirt that was a little to large for your body. Regardless, you pulled each on, finding they both fit you comfortably.
Grabbing your discarded clothes, you made your way over to where the scream came from. Standing upright on one side of the room with the television still playing in the background, your body was touching his arms and face. He could not hold in the laughter this time when you say your body standing there with a torn pair of grey shorts and what was once a blue shirt.
Faster than you thought possible, he turned to face you with a hint of franticness.
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