Mint Stained Shirt Novels & Stories

It wasn't a bad look, just different. I was no seamstress, but I did a good job fixing the tear on my uniform T-shirt. I washed it last night so it would be ready for today. It was a red wine color and with big white letters on the back saying "Shop with M". It was a small store in a small village so that was enough. The rest of my outfit was up to me and it was no problem for my boss if I wore sexy jean shorts and sneakers.

I honestly did not expect that sort of nerdy look would look good on guys but Kevin was able to pull it off perfectly. As for me, I am representing the MEH, students. MEH as in the never mind students who don't really have a specific fashion thing going on but want to look decent and human at the same time. A quarter-sleeved see-through polo shirt with 5 different colors. The right side of the shirt is purple while the sleeves are a dirty mint color. The left side is pastel pink with it's sleeves colored nude. At the ends of the sleeves - I think those are called cuffs? - are colored white.

We arrive at the venue right on time, I have the gift tickets printed out in an envelope and we are dressed in matching dress shirts and chinos. Ashton is wearing a maroon colored shirt and I’m wearing an olive colored one, same model. And we both have black chinos. Ashton’s hear is a hot mess, we still haven’t had the time to cut it. I like it though, he’s hot as fuck with a messy look like this. Bed head but more stylish.

“You said you wanted a wedding. I’m going to meet the planner. Now you’re mad about my shirt color?” “Don’t think you can distract me with wedding talk,” I shot back. He leaned against the wall, smirking. “Then enlighten me, my righteous Luna. What would make me more… divine?” I reached for a white button-down buried between the shadows. “This. Try this one.” “White? That’s dangerous.” “Put it on before I strangle you with it,” I said, shoving it at his chest. He grinned and obeyed. As he buttoned the shirt, I stepped closer to fix his collar. He smelled faintly of pine and mint, clean, sharp, intoxicating. His heartbeat was steady beneath my fingers; mine was not.

I blurted out in frustration as I dropped the shirt, but as it fell from my hands, I noticed a lipstick stain on the fabric. I picked it up hurriedly to examine it, and I wasn’t wrong. The stain was from a designer lipstick that had sold out fast last season. Mira had gotten me one too, but mine was in another shade entirely. “And I know the person who wears this shade,” I whispered under my breath, and my chest tightened painfully as I remembered the woman who wore it. Not that I thought of taking the shirt to a forensic lab to be certain, that would have been very stupid.

She knew what she would see and, trust and believe, a woman had to prepare herself to look at Mason. Slowly she lifted her head, her eyes staring at his bare feet, long legs clad in dark denim, a faded dark shirt with a ‘Stones’ logo on it (the one with the big red lips and tongue), his forearms bare with dark ink swirls peeking out from his short sleeves. His dark, curly hair touched his shoulders and his chin had dark stubble, but it was his blue eyes that got her. Every. Single. Time.

Estella greeted me from behind the bar, "Glad you made it before the match." "Thanks. I see just as many yellow shirts as red." "You stand out if you don't wear your color. We sell Slam shirts for twelve bucks if you want one." "Absolutely. I'm not exactly blending in at the moment." They all laughed as Estella dug out a plastic-wrapped red t-shirt from under the bar. "I'll put it on your tab and you can go change in the bathroom if you want." "Go change. We'll hold your stool," Stub said as she waved me away.

The suit's fabric embraced his form with precision, sculpting his frame in a way that conveyed strength and elegance in equal measure. The darkness of his attire was punctuated by a bold statement: a deep red shirt that accentuated his confidence. The top buttons of the shirt remained undone, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of his tattooed chest. The inked patterns danced across his skin, a testament to a hidden side of him that few were privy to witness. The intricate designs told stories of his past, a tapestry of experiences woven into the very fabric of his being.

This store had a good collection of designer shirts, jeans and pants and t-shirts. My eyes caught on a White & blue striped t-shirt. I said, "Try this." He said, "I don't wear striped shirts... But I can give it a try." took the shirt and went to the trial room. In the meantime, I took two outfits like a hooded neck with White, Blue and Orange which goes with light blue Jean and the other is a Bottleneck maroon t-shirt. "Sam!... Is it good?", asked after trying his maroon t-shirt.