The night breeze hit you as you were arguing with Mattheo on the Astronomy Tower.

“Your handsome friend took care of everything.” His voice is laced with frustration.

“Who? Theodore?”

His expression changes, his frustration masked with something else now. “You think he’s handsome?”

“I guess?” You shrug. “Is that a problem?”

Mattheo tries to compose himself, clenching and unclenching his jaw. “No.”

But you see through him. A smirk forms on your face as you raise an eyebrow. “You’re jealous.”

He looks away, trying to appear nonchalant. “I don’t get jealous.”

You let out an amused scoff. “You’re jealous— you’re actually jealous.”