11. "Is that my shirt?"
"Anya!"
Anya looked up over her book and sighed. She hated it when Dmitry yelled from the other side of the apartment. Both were too stubborn to get up and challenged the other to see who would get up first. She returned to her book before shouting back, "I can't hear you Dima!"
"Anya!"
"Ugh, this man is incorrigible," Anya grunted, setting her book down and hopping off the couch. She angrily shuffled into their bedroom and had to duck to avoid a shoe being thrown across the room.
"Dima! What is going on in here?!" Anya exclaimed, scanning the mess Dmitry was currently making in their bedroom. There were shirts, pants, and shoes scattered around the room.
"Have you seen my navy flannel shirt?" Dmitry questioned out of breath, as he exited the closet, "I've been look—"
Dmitry interrupted himself as he looked at Anya. He opened his mouth, stuttered a few indistinguishable noises, and then cleared his throat. "Is that my shirt?" Dmitry asked, pointing to the shirt Anya was currently wearing.
Anya and Dmitry had just moved in together and they were still working out adjusting to living with another person. Anya nervously tugged the oversized shirt closer to her body and blushed.
"Y-yeah it is. I hope you don't mind," she offered him a small smile.
Dmitry smiled wide and took Anya's hand. As he rubbed small circles on the back of her hand, he joked, "It's a tad big on you."
Anya gave a small huff of disagreement, "I don't care. It's warm and soft and smells like you."
Dmitry raised his hands, "Hey, I never said it looked bad on you," and he leaned down to kiss her temple.
After he pulled away, both stared and smiled at each other. "However," Dmitry began, "I am jealous that it doesn't work the other way. Your clothing won't fit me."
Anya playfully swatted his arm and gave a small giggle. "You're such a dork, Dima. Now clean up our room, you made a mess."
Dmitry pouted like a child being told to clean up his toys. "You know this is indirectly your fault, right? If you didn't borrow my shirt, I wouldn't have made a mess," Dmitry reasoned jokingly.
Anya rolled her eyes, "Let's cut to the chase, what do I get if I help you clean up your mess?"
Dmitry thought about it for a second," You get to choose the movie for tonight's movie night."
"What else?"
"What else?" Dmitry sputtered before continuing to think, "Um, how about we also get dinner from your favorite restaurant?"
"Deal. I was going to help you anyway, but thanks for the offer, Dima," Anya gleefully replied, standing up on her toes and pecking him on the cheek. With that she left him there and began to fold Dmitry's shirts. He stood there for a couple seconds, frozen with disbelief, and then proceeded to join her.
