**Teen's Confused Couture**

Ethan's eyes opened slowly, fighting against the heavy cover of fatigue that blanketed his body. The room around him was soft and pastel-colored, a stark contrast to his usual setting. As his mind sluggishly caught up, he dimly noted he wasn't in his room but rather his sister Emma's. His pillow groaned under his shifting weight, adding to the peculiar feeling surrounding him. Startled by a sudden realization, his hands reached down to touch his body, revealing that he was clothed in a too-tight nightgown and a pair of panties that were definitely not his size. He blinked, colors and shapes gradually coming into clearer focus. Yes, this was undeniably Emma's room. His tired brain tried to pull together the fragments of last night. Work had dragged on way too late, and the hours of stocking shelves seemed endless. He had come home exhausted, though he couldn't recall walking through the front door or how he'd ended up in Emma's bed, much less in her clothes. The first thought in his mind was to change into something more comfortable. He dragged himself out of the bed, each step bringing a wave of fatigue. He pulled open one of Emma's drawers and, without much thought, slipped into another pair of her panties. The snug fabric was an odd sensation, but he was too tired to care. Next came the bra, a piece of clothing he had never had the luxury—or necessity—to understand. He fumbled with the straps but eventually managed to get it on, though it bit into his skin awkwardly. He pulled open Emma's closet and grabbed the first thing that looked comfortable—a short summer dress. It was airy and light, resembling a gentle summer breeze encapsulated in clothing. It wasn't until he was fully dressed and saw his reflection in Emma's vanity mirror that the absurdity of the situation struck him. He paused, the corners of his mouth twitching upward in a bemused smile. He could have simply walked to his room and picked out his own clothes, but somehow, that seemed like too much effort at that moment. "Eh," he shrugged, feeling a rush of nonchalance. No one was around to judge, and he didn't have anything pressing to do today. The dress wasn't uncomfortable, and he kind of admired how the yellow floral pattern contrasted with his dark hair. He made his way downstairs, the dress swishing around his legs, and planted himself onto the recliner in the living room. The remote for his gaming console sat beside him, almost beckoning him to dive into a day of relaxation and pixelated adventures. As the game loaded, he leaned back and let out a sigh. Comfort was all that mattered today, and the hem of the dress tickling his knees was a surprisingly pleasant sensation. Maybe it was the sheer exhaustion that muted any embarrassment, or perhaps it was the quiet and private space of home, but right now, he didn't care at all. The sound of distant footsteps reached his ears, probably Emma waking up. He chuckled softly, imagining her reaction but deciding to cross that bridge when it came. For now, he was ready to lose himself in the world of his game, the summer dress fluttering lightly against his skin—a strange but oddly appropriate emblem of his care-free, consequence-free day.