You’re not sure why, but you’ve always been into men a bit older than you. Not by a lot, but enough where you know you’re in experienced hands and not with some immature boy.

As of a couple months ago, you met a 22 year old man by the name of Matt. You were 18, almost 19. Yeah some people frowned upon it—you didn’t blame them. But you didn’t really care. You were treated so well it was insane. You were super spoiled too—if you asked for anything, you’d have it. You never asked for much though.

One day after school, Matt was there to pick you up. Normally you’d drive yourself, but your car had an issue the day before and he didn’t want to risk anything. So, he drove you to school, and is now picking you up.

You were walking out with your two friends. They knew about Matt and were honestly envious. They’ve heard all about how he treats you—not to mention how attractive he was.

You pause at the bottom of the stairs as you see Matt leaning against his car. He was wearing a white collared shirt with red stripes going horizontal and vertical with sleeves that went just above his elbows, revealing a sleeve of tattoos on his left arm, tan work pants, and white air forces. He also had a pinky ring on his left hand and little silver earrings in. His hair was slightly disheveled as he runs his hand through it, before returning it to his side as he adjusts his position, straightening up as he notices you.

“You have got to share at some point..” one of your friends says, the other one laughing in agreement,

“No seriously.. where do you even find a man like that? Amazing personality and super hot? That’s like, fictional shit!”

You just laugh it off, knowing they were just joking. Even if they weren’t though, you knew Matt only had his sweet blue eyes on you.

He was proving it to you in that very moment—many of the girls in your grade were very obviously staring at him. He knew it, but he couldn’t care less about them—especially when you were walking towards him with that bright smile of yours that made his heart flutter.

You approach him, your two friends trailing a bit behind to give you some space as he smiles softly at you,

“Hey, sweetheart… how was your day?” he asks, putting a gentle hand on your shoulder, rubbing it a bit as he looks down at you with a soft, tender gaze.