Relationship Imagines

It's Cold Out (M)

He wanted to walk me home. 

After helping him study for his biology test, he insisted I let him walk me home.

"No," I said flatly as I collected my books and papers and organized them to fit in my backpack. 

"Why not?" He asked me. 

"My walk home is three miles. I don't want you to walk more than you have to nor do I need you to walk me. Besides, it's cold out." I said. 

I threw my backpack over my shoulders and turned to walk out. He followed next to me. 

"Come on, please?"

"Why do you wanna walk me home so bad?" I asked him. 

"Because," he said. 

"Because?" I asked and laughed. 

"Yes, because." He said and smiled.

"Wow, I'm convinced," I said.

"Great." He said. 

"I'm being sarcastic," I said and looked up at him. 

"Nope, you already agreed." He said. 

I scoffed and said, "Fine."

After a mile of walking and him blabbering on and on about, I don't know, football or something, I shivered.

He bounced from topic to topic like a trampoline but he quickly paused and looked down at me. 

"Are you cold?" He asked. 

It was a cloudy afternoon and it was 67 degrees. My thin sweater wasn't quite keeping me warm. 

"No," I said, quietly. 

He stayed silent for a few moments until I shivered again and my teeth began to chitter. 

"Are you sure you're not cold?" He asked. 

"I'm fine," I said. 

"Take my jacket," He said. 

It was a dark green zip-up hoodie. It was very large. 

"No, no, I'm fine." 

"No you're not, and besides I'm wearing a thick sweater under this, I'll manage."

"No," I said louder this time. For a moment he went silent. 

I wasn't going to wear his jacket. Mainly because, 

What if it didn't fit me?

What if I'm too chubby to wear it? Though it was long and baggy, why did that matter?

I'm chubby and tall. Not as tall as him, but taller than a lot of boys at school. 

I also didn't want to wear his jacket because...

I don't know why, 

actually. 

I was cold. 

I shivered. 

I suppose that was a good thing. 

No, it wasn't, but it kind of was. 

I ate a rather large portion at lunch today. Shivering burns off calories. 

I could manage.

I shivered again. "Would you just wear my hoodie?" He asked. 

"No!" I yelled at him. We stopped walking. I opened my mouth to say something, but what could I say?

Sorry, I'm just scared that I'm too fat for your jacket.

How could I say that?

"Why don't you want to wear my jacket?" He asked.

"Because I don't need to."

I crossed my arms in front of me to try to salvage any remaining heat left in my body. He silently took off his jacket and held it out for me to take. 

I took it. 

When I put it on it was warm. 

It gave me butterflies thinking that his warmth was now mine. 

The jacket fit.

It fit largely. 

It was very loose.

The sleeves were longer than my arms. 

The jacket reached past my hips. 

This jacket fit me perfectly. 

I smiled to myself.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could feel him smiling.

 "What?" I asked, looking at him and furrowing my brows.

"Nothing... you just look really cute in my jacket." He said. 

"Fuck off," I said and scoffed. 

I touseled my hair around and scratched my head. 

"You have really pretty hair, you know." He said. 

Did I?

It was curly and frizzy. I did all that I could to tame it, but my hair could never be tamed.

I always thought it was my worst feature. 

"Really? I think it makes me ugly."

He stopped walking and so did I. 

He grabbed my hand and forced me to look him in the eye. 

"Nothing can make you look ugly. Nothing." He said. 

He sounded so serious, so genuine. 

"Thanks." I blurted out. I didn't know what else to say. 

As we started to walk again, I blurted out, "You know you're gorgeous right?"

He laughed. 

"Gorgeous?" He asked and smiled.

"Yeah," I said and smiled back. Once we'd gotten to my house I walked up to my porch and waved goodbye. When I got to my door I forgot I still had his jacket on.

I ran back and saw him walking back down the street. 

I yelled for him. 

He turned around. 

"Your jacket!" I shouted. 

"Keep it! Give it back to me on Monday," he shouted back. 

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah!"

The jacket smelled like him. 

I became intoxicated by the smell.

He smelled good. 

I fell asleep in his jacket that night. 

And a lot of nights after that, too.