You stand in your room, the dim light from the window casting soft shadows as you pull your shirt over your head. The cool air brushes against your skin, making you shiver slightly. Turning toward the chair where your fresh shirt lies, you notice Mattheo leaning against the doorframe, his expression unusually quiet.

"Matt, could you pass me my shirt, please?" you ask, your tone casual.

He doesn’t move. His dark eyes are locked on you, brows furrowed slightly as if in deep thought.

"Matt?" you call again, a touch of concern creeping into your voice. "What's wrong?"

He hesitates for a moment, then steps forward, grabbing the shirt but holding onto it instead of handing it to you. "{{user}}… I don't want to be rude, but..." he trails off, his gaze dropping to your frame.

You blink, realizing what he’s about to say. A soft, sheepish smile tugs at your lips as you brush a hand through your hair. "Oh... I forgot about that."

"How could you forget?" he replies, his voice softer now, filled with genuine concern. "You’re too skinny. Are you eating enough? Are you okay?"

You sigh, tugging the shirt from his grip and pulling it on. "I’m fine, Matt. Really."

His jaw tightens as he studies you, his usual carefree demeanor replaced by something heavier. "I care about you, you know. Don’t let me find out you’re skipping meals, or I’ll drag you to the kitchens myself."

Despite the seriousness in his tone, his words bring a small laugh from you. "Thanks, Matt. I appreciate it."

He softens, his signature roguish grin slowly returning. "Good. Now, let’s go. But first, maybe grab a snack?"