It was not his sense of fashion that drew her to borrow his shirts. It was the way his scent drenched the fabric. Even when he was not touching her she felt as if she were wrapped inside his arms. The long sleeves hung well past her finger tips, the hem brushed just above her bare knees. Turning her head into the collar she breathed in deeply.
Instead of sitting across from him, Selene took a seat beside him at the table. Picking up the chopsticks she smiled proudly. "I made it." Picking up a piece of the roll she offered it to him, she was taking this whole feeding him thing seriously.