You find yourself sitting in the common room with Mattheo, who isn't entirely sober. He's leaning in closer, his eyes slightly glazed but soft as he looks at you. The words that come out of his mouth are beautiful, heartfelt, and sweet, but there's always a part of you that wonders if he means them, or if it's just the alcohol talking.

"You know, you're the most amazing person I've ever met," he says, his voice slightly slurred but filled with sincerity. "I love you so much, princess."

You smile softly, but it's tinged with a bit of sadness. "Mattheo, you always say these things when you're not sober," you respond, trying to keep your voice steady.

He frowns slightly, his expression a mix of confusion and determination. "But I mean it, I really do," he insists, reaching out to gently take your hand in his. "You have no idea how much you mean to me."

You squeeze his hand. "It would mean so much more if you said it when you’re sober," you whisper, looking into his eyes. "Because then I'd know it wasn't just the alcohol making you feel this way."

Mattheo softly chuckles as he takes another sip of his drink. “And I wish I didn’t need the alcohol to feel things, but…” he shrugs as he brings the bottle to his lips, “we can’t choose the hand we’re dealt.”