I've secretly stolen something of his while he was in the room, oblivious to my doing. He was distracted, looking down at his phone while I took his worn shirt and pushed it all the way to the bottom of my small duffel bag. I couldn't quite believe my brazenness and quick actions, but the memento was already in my possession, and it scared me that he found out about it. The minute I sniffed it, my reaction was quicker than I thought. I just stole a dirty shirt, well not dirty it just smelled like him, a wood-like minty scent. All I can think of right now is my bag with a shirt that doesn't belong to me. I still had a chance to put it back.
"Weren't you hungry?"
I feel as if someone has let go of an elastic band on my brain. The return to reality is quite painful and unsettling. He is, af
