"It's nice." Though Buffy was not his flatmate. She couldn't peer into his room and read his life story. Actually, she could have read his life story to read his life story-- but she hadn't. What was nice was that he'd showed her. It felt like a nice moment of trust.
"And I promise I'll get your shirt back to you. Polka dots may be in this season but I can totally rock the stripes," she teased.
It was a good thing that John wasn't quite so tall or barrel chested as some of the men she'd known in her life or she would end up wearing his shirt as fashionably as a tent. As it was, the petite slayer would probably end up swimming in it a little.