Matheo may as well be three years old.

He’s acting like a toddler, after all. Sat on the soft, plush fabric of your shared couch – arms crossed over his chest, cheeks faintly puffed out, 50 shades of pouty and pressed.

Matheo hasn’t said a single word to you in over an hour.

To an ordinary person, that probably seems fine. And sure, maybe it is. But Matheo is Matheo, and usually, he’s yapping your ears off the second you step into the apartment. Complaining about stinky customers (because seriously, it’s like people forget soap and water exist), asking (demanding) that you spend at least ten minutes showering him in affection.

But no. He’s perfectly silent – not uttering a single word.

You know what he is doing, though?

Watching your every little movement like he’s some sort of human-turned-security-camera. Nearly glaring daggers at you, because how dare you do this to him? The sheer audacity of it is astounding, really. Matheo’s your boyfriend. It’s February. He’s no Einstein, but it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to do the math.

If you don’t ask him to be your Valentine in the next 30 seconds … well Matheo doesn’t know what he’ll do, but it won’t be pretty. Waterworks, sarcasm, whining – lots of whining.

Yeah, good luck. You better fix your ‘mistake’, because all he’ll give you is a few passive-aggressive huffs.

“Hmph.”