Connor lets out a chuckle as if I'm just joking around.

"Haha, I think I'll be fine in my normal clothes, (y/n), but thank you for the offer."

I slightly slant my brows and smile at him, "C'mon, Connor, you've been wearing those clothes ever since I met you. Don't you ever change your outfits?"

C'mon Connor, take the bait. I wanna see you rock a tank top..

He cutely huffs. "Well.. I guess I don't really have a choice, do I?"

"I won't force you," I smile. "Buuuut.. It'd be nice to see you in a tank top."

I inch the bundle of clothing in my arms towards Connor, who happily grabs it from me and walks out of the room and into the bathroom.

"I'll be right back." He hollers.

After a while of waiting for Connor to get out of the bathroom, I hear a lot of rummaging and things falling to the ground. I walk out of my room and stand outside the bathroom door and softly knock three times.

"Is everything alright in there?" I ask.

Connor stutters, "Y-yeah, just a little difficult since I'm not your size.."

"Alright," I say. "Just be careful not to rip any fabric."

"Got it," Connor replies.

I go back to my room and sit patiently on my bed. As I fidget with my fingers and bite the skin off my lips, I hear the bathroom door open.

I turn to my doorway, only to see Connor in my blue tank top and grey shorts.

"Does it look okay?" Connor asks.

My mouth widens into a smile, feeling pure happiness seeing Connor in something so unlike his style. I've never seen him out of his regular outfit.

"You look adorable, Connor!" I say, raising my hands to my cheeks and squishing them.

I can tell Connor isn't too comfortable showing so much skin. He's never taken off his suit, after all.

"I guess what you and I find cute is completely different." He says, folding his arms.

I'm not even going to ask him what he thinks cute is.

I already know the answer.

.. I think.

"So Sumo isn't cute?" I ask.

Connor's eyes widen a bit. He quickly waves his hands in front of him, "Ah, no! Sumo is adorable!"

Seeing Connor get flustered, I let out a laugh. It's really wholesome seeing him get so worked up over a dog, but can you blame him?

No, you can't, and you won't.

"Ah, (y/n)?" Connor says.

I slowly stop laughing, but I keep smiling.

"What's up?"

Connor shyly mumbles a few words, but I can't make out what he's saying.

"Are you okay?" I ask him.

He hesitates. "My.. uhm.."

After a while of him twiddling with his fingers, he lets out a big sigh.

"My shorts.." He says.

...

Oh no.

".. What about them?" I ask, trying to not sound uncomfortable, or somehow end up giggling, but he seems scared, so I know it won't be a bad thing.

Connor quickly, but obviously embarrassed, turns around, showing me his ripped shorts.

"ACK, CONNOR-" I shout, turning away as quickly as I can, covering my eyes. "ARE YOU EVEN WEARING UNDERWEAR?!"

"I ripped them.." I hear Connor say, sounding sad, and unaware of what he's just done.

Still looking away, I continue shouting. "HOW?"

"We aren't the same size of clothing, y'know." Connor says.

Wait.

He's right.

Why did I expect him to fit into my clothing?

Am I stupid?

"Okay, you're right," I say, turning back towards Connor, lifting my hands from my eyes. "I'll try to find you another pair of shorts- WHY ARE YOU STILL SHOWING ME YOUR ASS?"

I grab one of the pillows from my bed, and throw it at Connor, "PUT THAT THING AWAY!"

Connor catches it, turns around, and sticks the pillow to the rip on his shorts.

"I'm sorry, (y/n), I should've told you without showing you. I just.. didn't want to say it out loud."

I guess that makes sense?

I let out a sigh, "I understand. I'll go find you another pair of shorts from the laundry."