Nochelle - Our Stories

S W E A T E R S

~like S5 or S6 maybe~

Richelle's grandma gives Noah sweaters, like, all the time. She's been doing it since they were kids.

He can't not wear them, right? Noah's not a sweater guy. Rip off his workout tanks and put him in a solid colour wool sweater with glasses and he's unrecognisable. He looks more like a responsible adult, but barely. More mature in the sense that he looks like a kid who stole his dad's clothes, if his dad was a librarian.

He does wear them though. Especially during the autumn, as winter draws near. They're just so cozy and fit him just right. If anyone comments on it, he goes with the 'I can't just not wear these when they're from my girlfriend's grandma' excuse when asked what the deal is.

At least, that was his go-to excuse. Until he stopped being able to use it. Because he was found out by the person whose grandma knits dastardly comfy sweaters.

~~~

It's a brisk autumn day, and he's at Richelle's house making breakfast for them both (at 11 AM) and is completely off guard. He's also spent the morning wrapped up in the dark blue sweater that's soft enough to legally be labeled as a hug.

Richelle notices this too.

"You know you don't really have to wear those." she tells him with that affectionate smile on her face, hand on her hip as she nods down to his sweater clad chest. Goodness knows he looks adorable in it, but Noah was practically married to his workout attire. One of the things she's also noticed is that he's much more likely to throw on one of the hand-knit sweaters in one of their houses than when they're going out and about places. It clashes with his style. She thinks it's sweet that he's been wearing them more and more as the weather cools down lately. He just looks so cute in them, and she wants nothing more than to curl up and cuddle with him all day.

"I know." he replies mindlessly, and keeps plating up the pancakes that he just whipped up for breakfast. He's got a system. For making sure there's the perfect ratio of batter to diameter that guarantees he'll have perfectly cooked fluffy pancakes.

Richelle rolls her eyes as he stoops down to the counter to watch very closely as he pours out the batter into the pan, making sure that it wasn't too thick - his concentration like that of a scientist mixing the two deadliest substances known to man.

Satisfied with his job, he cooks it up, flipping it with ease after exactly two minutes and fourteen seconds, plates it up, and moves to her table to set their dishes down.

"Really, Noah. It's not a big hassle." she begins again. "I can just put them in a box and hand them off to-"

"Wha-no,shuddup,don'ttouchthem-they'remine!" he says, without thinking. Without pausing and thinking of how to respond or what he's responding to.He definitely should've done that first, but he's always running his mouth off without thinking.

He's definitely regretting that habit of his when Richelle starts grinning like a Cheshire cat and he knows he's in for some prime time teasing.

"You're such a liar!" She laughs. "You love those sweaters! You don't wear them because 'they're from my girlfriend's grandma'." Richelle quotes in her worst Noah Erlick impression. The one she uses exclusively when she's mocking him and something dumb he's said. Or dumb excuses he's made. "You wear those because you love them!"

Richelle's absolutely gleeful, like she's already figured out a way to turn liking sweaters into some blackmail worthy material. He's not sure if he should be worried or not.

"Shut up." he grumbles, cheeks coloring as he sifts powdered sugar over his dish.

"Oh my god, you're blushing!"

"I am not!" Noah denies, blushing even harder because of course he does.

"This is the cutest thing I've ever seen. Where's my phone?" Richelle asks herself more than him, then darts off to the other room where she's left it.

"What? Richelle! No! No pictures!"

~~~
Cutie patooties