"Is that my shirt?" Lars asked, raising an eyebrow when he noticed Arthur walking into the kitchen, wearing a shirt too large to be his own along with shorts.
"You mean our shirt?" Arthur groggily asked back, making his way to where the tea bags were kept.
"No, that's my shirt. Marielle got it for me."
"For our anniversary you nut job," The shorter man sighed, voice having more of a bite after having his morning tea. "Which means I have the right to wear it."
"Hmph. Fine.." Lars then reached for Arthur, resting his head on the other's shoulder.