Fortified -Pau Cubarsí-

27 - who's hoodie is that?

The smell of coffee pulls me from my sleep, drifting through the haze of the morning like an invitation to wake up. I groan and pull the blanket tighter around my shoulders, but the scent is too tempting. Slowly, I push myself up, rubbing my eyes, and slip into the oversized hoodie that's been my favorite lately. It's soft, comfortable, and it smells like him—Pau.

It's become my go-to, especially on mornings like this when my brain is too foggy to function.

I shuffle toward the kitchen, still fighting the sleep that clings to my eyes. The house is quiet except for the sound of the coffee machine. It's so quiet, in fact, that I don't hear the faint shuffle of footsteps until it's too late.

"Morning," Celeste greets me as I make my way into the kitchen. Her tone is light, maybe even too bright for this early.

"Morning..." I mumble back, my voice thick with sleep.

I'm too focused on the coffee brewing to notice the other presence in the room at first. But then I hear a deep, amused voice—one that immediately makes my pulse pick up.

"Morning, Cesca."

I freeze, my body going tense. I blink, still not fully awake, and turn around slowly to face him.

Hector.

He's standing there, casually leaning against the counter, a mug of coffee in hand. The sight of him in the kitchen, looking way too comfortable, makes me instantly aware of what I'm wearing—the hoodie. Pau's hoodie.

The realization hits me a split second later. Oh no.

I stand there, blinking at Hector in a mixture of surprise and panic. I forgot that Celeste had mentioned Hector would be over this morning. The coffee's not even going to be worth it if my heart doesn't stop pounding first.

I try to play it cool, but it's clear from the way Hector's eyes are narrowing slightly that something is off. He looks me over, taking in the hoodie, and then it happens. His expression shifts. His eyes lock on the hoodie like it's the one thing in the world that matters.

It's that moment—the moment he realizes.

The hoodie. It's too familiar.

Hector doesn't say anything at first. He just stands there, eyes glued to the fabric, his jaw tightening just the slightest bit. I swear I can hear the gears turning in his head.

"Nice hoodie," he says, but there's an edge to his tone now. His gaze flicks from the hoodie to me, his eyebrows raising as if he's piecing everything together. "That's... Pau's hoodie, right?"

I freeze, caught. I wasn't expecting this, wasn't expecting him to make the connection so fast. My mouth goes dry. "Uh... no," I start, but it's a lie, and I know it. It's Pau's hoodie. He's seen Pau wear it a thousand times.

Hector doesn't buy it. He takes a slow sip of his coffee, never breaking eye contact, still studying me. "You sure about that?" he presses, his voice low, but the amusement in it is unmistakable.

I swallow hard, trying to keep my composure. "Yeah, I just like big hoodies," I say, but my voice cracks a little, and it's clear I'm not convincing anyone.

Hector shakes his head, but there's a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth now, like he's found a puzzle piece and it's all starting to make sense. "Right," he says slowly, lowering his mug. "And Pau just happens to own one that looks exactly like that?"

I feel heat creeping up my neck. "Hector, it's—" I start, but my words fumble and fall flat. There's no denying it. The hoodie gives it away.

His grin widens, and he crosses his arms, leaning back against the counter, clearly enjoying this a little too much. "I think we both know whose hoodie this is."