Disclaimer: I only own the sweater.
Summary: Clothing and love. Lupin/Tonks
A/N: It'sa different style that I usually write in and I'm not sure if I like it.
Tweed. Patches. Corduroy. Gray, brown, black. His clothes are comfortable, sensible, everything hers are not.
Her clothes are bright, noticeable, glaring. Pinks. Purples. Teals. She tells him she prefers concert t-shirts to button-ups, jeans to slacks, color to dark.
But when he's gone and she's lonely, she sneaks into his closet, wearing around his worn-in brown sweater.
"Don't tell him," she warns, "but it's unbearably fashionable."
She fools no one of course, not even herself. When he comes back, he knows, and soon after, the sweater mysteriously appears in her drawers. She laughs, cherishing it secretly but giving it back all the same.
"It's just not my style," she tells him and they share a kiss and a smile; they both know where that sweater will be next time he goes away.
A/N: Comments?