An under 1000 word drabble for the Reds. Dedicated with all my love to the Powerpufffandom who doesn't have nearly enough fiction dedicated to it.
Disclaimer: I don't own my beloved girls and never will. Craig McCracken does, that geniusman.
The Cap
He'd never observed anything quite like it. Despite them having been in a relationship for a long while, it was the first time he'd ever seen her wear it. His first instinct was to start snapping at her, to tell her to give it back. Yet, something in him stirred, something he'd long been a stranger to.
There was just something about the way she wore his cap
The feeling was a bit numbing at first before slowly building into something much warmer and pleasant. His subconscious started tapping into hidden emotions he'd long convinced himself he didn't possess. It was a sensation that was primal, and simple, and illogical- all the things he was not.
It was contentment.
He observed that he liked the way it sat on her head slightly askew from being too big for her head. She wore it backwards, like he often did, with her bright red bangs messily hanging over the snap.
It was elation.
Perhaps he liked it even more because her hair was down, instead of in that big, childish bow she always wore. It was always a welcome surprise to see her with her hair down. She really did have nice hair.
It was comfort.
He might even say the hat had a strange, almost mystical, effect on her. She was calmer, looser. Her posture was relaxed. Her usual air of formality and pride was abandoned for a more humble, carefree girl. Before him sat an entirely other being, one with no airs about her. And although he generally admired her straightforwardness and her commanding presence, he always felt this sort of inebriated joy from her when she was feeling more tranquil and unwound.
It was pride.
Then again, it could be (and after much speculation he would definitely argue that it was indeed) that the cap was his, meaning that she was his. They were not entirely public when it came to their relationship. He often supposed it was part of them being possessive people. For as much as they like to show off, they didn't want anyone else to share in their relationship. Their shows of affection were smaller, found in the quiet touches and close proximity, in the shared looks and gentle offerings and, more often than not, in the loud blows and constant bickering. Yet, in spite all of that, to him, this was the most outward sign of her expressing that they were, in fact, together, a bold declaration of her feelings towards him. And it made his blood boil in the best of ways.
"What are you looking at?" she asked of him softly.
Brick came out of his daze, to meet her expectant eyes, that peered at him with a mixture of concern and curiosity.
"You," he replied honestly. "And my cap."
"Oh," her pink eyes drifted to the snapback warily. She grabbed the bill and pulled it fluidly from her head before holding it out to him. "Do you want it back?"
He paused for a moment, analyzing the red cap between her fingers. After a moment, his eyes began to trail upwards from the hat, to her arm, grazing past her neck, before staring into her wide eyes, filled with expectation. His own eyes dared to flick upwards some more to admire her hair for a second, before he quickly looked back into her eyes once again. Finally, he reached out for the cap, but, instead of taking it, he shoved it back to her.
"No."
Blossom's eyes widened even more.
"No?"
He breathed a small chuckle before grabbing the hat from her and placing it back on her head.
"Nah, for today, you keep it."