Prompt #4. “Is that my shirt?” - Young Sully and Marlowe. Please?
[i hope this is alright! I’ve never done this ship before, and honestly never written Marlowe in a fic so hopefully it’s not too ooc!]
Victor Sullivan was usually better with the ladies. Spilling a drink on his lady was not what he’d had in mind for his one date opportunity, but here they were. By chance, Katherine Marlowe had arrived in the city the night before his flight out, and had been in the bar below his motel room when he’d come down for a drink.
Now he was sitting alone at the table while she searched upstairs for a new shirt; her blouse soiled from an enthusiastic swing of his beer after one of his jokes. She had been extraordinarily unimpressed, and he worried what the mood of the night would be on her return. He suspected that the ruined item had been worth more than his motel room.
When his panic had reached nearly its maximum, the sound of a door opening alerted Victor to Marlowe’s return. Still dressed in her slim black slacks, she was now sporting a rather flamboyant pattern button-up that was a good few sizes too large. She was also sporting a very disgusted expression on her face.
“Is that my shirt?” Victor said, an eyebrow raised. Kate wearing one of his shirts willingly was one of the last sights he thought he would see. Then again, willingly was probably the incorrect word to use.
She lowered her gaze at him. “I think I should be asking if this is your shirt - you look like a street merchant!”
Victor gaped in protest.
“Well excuse me, darling, but I actually like my sense of style! You didn’t have to put on the shirt.”
“I disagree - every shirt in your wardrobe is an abomination. I had no choice.”