Me: Okay. My third 'I'm in France now' update. Just so you guys have something to read from me while I'm away :D.
Apps: And again, Scooby Doo does not belong to her, the rightful owner is Warner Bros. (at least, I think so).
Invy: ... It's kinda late. Anyway. Here it is:
It had never happened on purpose.
She hadn't planned on taking it, taking it home with her, but now it was here, fell in her hands and god, it smelled exactly like him.
"I'll better head to P.E. now or, like, my teacher's gonna kill me for coming too late again." Shaggy shot one last smile at Velma, before closing his locker and heading to the gym, his half-opened, messy-as-ever backpack hanging down from one of his shoulders.
Velma smiled, quickly looked in her own, neatly and organized bag to make sure that she had all the books she needed, before closing her locker as well and walking to her Maths class.
On her way down the floor Shaggy had dashed down before, she suddenly saw a green and very familiar piece of cloth. It lay on the floor, not noticed by anyone and was unmistakable Shaggy's, probably the one he had planned on wearing for P.E. now. While picking it up, Velma figured that it must have somehow fallen out of his bag.
She'd like to go and give it to him now, but then she'd be late for her own class and that was one thing, Velma couldn't stand. So she gave it a quick fold, stuffed it in a plastic bag she found in her backpack and pocketed it. She could give it to him when they had lunch break. Technically, Shaggy's closet was full of them, but Velma knew that he loved all of them and would be very glad to have it back.
But as the day went over, she forgot about it and also seeing the one he was wearing right now didn't help her mind. And now, just back from school, her parents at work, a sandwich she had just made on the table, it fell in her hands again while she searched for a book. She held the plastic bag upside down, letting the soft, green clothing fall into her hands.
She let it glide through her hands, wondering what was so special about them for him. Then again, he could ask her the same question about her sweater or her skirt. Would she be able to give him an answer on this question?
She had once asked Scooby about it, because she knew that the dog loved them as much as his owner. Though his reasons were probably just understandable for dogs, since he had told her, that they simply smelled like Shaggy and that was the smell he had grown up with and loved.
As if to test if she could smell what Scooby meant, Velma slowly, nearly carefully lifted it to her face and buried her nose in it, inhaling the clothing's scent.
And god, was Scooby right.
Even though Scooby's sense of smell was about 100 million times better than hers, her nose could immediately recognize the smell as Shaggy's.
It was probably a big help, that his scent was so familiar, but she didn't know any scent that was similar to his. It was his own, a mix between the scent of the forest when it had just rained and the smell of lemons, sweet and sour at the same time, meeting somewhere in the middle and creating a wonderful mix.
Without one doubt and a little giggle, Velma pulled off her orange sweater and put on Shaggy's shirt, only to burrow her nose in it again. Running in the floor, she stopped in front of the large mirror they had hanging there. She looked at herself. Shaggy's shirt looked somewhat funny on her. It was so long, only a little part of her skirt peeked out from under the green shirt. The contrast between the darker red and the brighter green made a funny mix. The sleeves hung a bit over her elbows.
Now and then, she burrowed her nose in it to inhale the lovely and familiar scent again, then she ran to her room and put the Beatles in her CD player. To air the house, she opened a window and began to dance to the addicting songs of the Beatles. Halfway through the CD, the door bell rang and Velma opened it without a though, shot whoever stood behind there a smile caused by endorphins - and looked right in the face of Shaggy.
"Hey Velms, I was wondering if you-" that was when he saw what she was wearing. Besides the many thoughts that came up, all saying 'Huh?', there were also some 'She looks kinda cute' thoughts. "-may... have seen my... shirt?" he ended his sentence.
Seconds later, the door was slammed right in front of his face, nearly hitting him on the nose. He could barely hear Velma sinking to the ground on the other side, head resting against the door.
"Come on, like, I know that you're there."
"Please, open the door."
"Listen, it's not sinister or something. I guess you found my shirt, something got you to wear it and - there's nothing bad about it, strange things happen all over the world right now."
"Velma, it's just my- a shirt. You can even keep it if you want to, you know I've got millions of them at my house, but please open the door."
Silence. Then, slowly, the door opened, just so much for someone to peek through, then a bit more, a bit more, until Shaggy was able to see Velma standing behind it again, her eyes busy with looking at everything but him and her face red as a tomato.
"Um.. I... I'm sorry."
"Like, for what?" Shaggy asked.
She looked up confused, asking herself if he really wasn't able to see the obvious. That she had taken his shirt, was wearing it right now, he had seen it, sure, but how comes that he couldn't be angry or anything about it?
"Taking... and wearing your shirt?"
"Velma, why would I ever be upset about you wearing one of my shirts? No biggie."
"NO biggie? Shaggy, if I take your shirt I found in school home with me, wear it, dance with it through the whole house, then that's a damn biggie!"
"Listen. It's just like - well, no, not really, but anyway - when a guy gives a girl a jacket to keep her warm, it's only naturally. Okay, our case is a whole lot different, like, you found my shirt and took it home with you on your own, but honestly, I don't mind. If I would have a jacket, I'd give it to you every time you'd be cold and even if you weren't, I'd give it to you. Now I know, that this is not nearly a good comparison, but the point is, that you can have my clothes... at least part of it always."
Velma smiled. If a boy gave his jacket to a girl, it wasn't simply an action out of friendliness, it meant that the boy cared for the girl, maybe a bit more than for other girls. Now, Shaggy didn't had a jacket, because he simply didn't need one, interestingly he never got cold. He would wear a long-sleeved shirt under his normal green one every time winter came upon Coolsville, but that really was it. Of course, he had a jacket, but it was only used if they would drive somewhere colder, their hometown was generally very warm. It looked always a bit funny how everyone would begin to wear jackets when autumn would hit Coolsville and Shaggy would always be the one staying in his green shirts.
"Um... okay. Well, just... wait a moment, I'll change and then you can have your shirt back."
"No, just keep it. I know where it is now. It's in good hands." With a wink, he turned around, stopped, looked back again, leaned forward to give her a quick peck on her cheek. He immediately turned beet red and then began to ran away, only taking a quick look over his shoulder to see her touching the spot he had kissed.
That night, Velma slept in Shaggy's shirt.
The next day, Velma was outside during the break, trying to read a book about molecular archaeology, but the constant wind got her shivering and she couldn't really concentrate on the book. Then, she felt something being slipped up on her shoulders, feeling what it was it, she felt a jacket. Turning, she saw Shaggy standing awkwardly behind her, the littlest hint of a blush on his cheeks.
"I thought I could bring my jacket today, maybe someone could use it against the cold."
Smiling, Velma cuddled herself into Shaggy's soft jacket, feeling the warmth that came from it and from his arm that he had nervously slung around her shoulders when he had sat down next to her.
Me: I don't know if you like it, but I do. 'Super awkward moment' -supporting.
Me: You've got no idea how it is, when you hear snoring in your head. Especially when you try to sleep.