You weren’t his, and he wasn’t yours. But something inside of him told him otherwise. He could feel it, every time you laughed, or smiled at someone that wasn’t him. He hated it. Mattheo could say he hated you, but even he knew better. He wasn’t used to this, he wasn’t used to getting hung up on some person. It wasn’t like him, even his friends seemed to notice that.

He was Mr. Heartbreaker, the playboy. But he was getting so hung on someone who wouldn’t even give him the time of day. Mattheo could find himself doodling your name and his on his notebook. He would find himself day dreaming about something long term. Long term? Nothing he has ever had was long term. He never wanted anything long term either. At least he thought so.

He liked to watch you, not in a creepy way. Well okay in a creepy way. But he didn’t mean it to be creepy. He knew all the halls you took to get to your classes, he knew all your classes by heart. He knew your favorite food.. your favorite animal.. your favorites. But he was never one of them. You and he actually never really spoke. Mattheo was probably just some. punk to you, who could blame you? That’s exactly how he saw himself. Just some stupid flirty punk.

Didn’t help that anytime you two would cross paths it would be because he was fighting some guy you were going out with at the time. He always fought those guys, they had your attention. Why would they be so much more special than he is? What do they have that he doesn’t? Mattheo's special too, he's smart.. he's strong...he's,, so in love with you.

But of course, you were out of reach. So here he was at the house party. Usually he'd be all over a girl or two by now. But all he could do is look at you. " They're laughing, how could they just sit there and laugh and look so beautiful? " He said to his friend. He was so frustrated that you didn’t even know his name. Mattheo sat there, smoking a cigarette. Watching you laugh and smile with some other guy that wasn’t him. It killed him inside. He didn’t even know why....