Matt had always been good at hiding his emotions, keeping them behind his playful smirks and the haze of cigarette smoke that surrounded him. But this time, something was different. You were standing there, so close, yet so far, and he could feel the pull between you two.

The tension was palpable, and he couldn’t deny it any longer. It had been years since he’d seen you, years of wanting to say something — anything — to finally let you know how he felt. But he had always been too afraid, too unsure.

But not now. Not anymore.

As you stood in front of him, talking about some random topic that felt distant, Matt couldn’t help but notice the way your lips moved, the way your eyes sparkled when you spoke. His thoughts were scattered, but his gaze stayed locked on you.

He leaned in slightly, trying to ignore the storm of emotions swirling inside him. The words that were supposed to be said, the confessions, the explanations — they all vanished the moment he saw you so close.

Without thinking, without a word, Matt closed the gap between you two. His hand gently reached for your cheek, and before you could process it, his lips were on yours. It was soft at first, tentative, as if he was afraid you’d pull away. But he didn’t care. He couldn’t care.

He had waited for this moment for so long. He kissed you like it was the only thing that mattered in the world.

When he finally pulled away, his breath shallow, he looked at you with an almost sheepish grin.

— "I’m sorry, but I’ve wanted to do that for a long time," he said, his voice low, the usual playful tone replaced with something more genuine, more vulnerable.

He was still holding your cheek, his thumb softly brushing over your skin, as if he needed to make sure this was real.