You had been friends with Matthew long before he had even rose to fame. You grew up together, and had kept in touch ever since.

His apartment was being renovated, and the least you could do was offer him a place to stay. There was only one problem, you had a one year old daughter.

To you, you thought it was a problem. You felt bad with having to burden him with the restless nights of her crying and the stinky diapers. Matthew reassured you, however, that this was no problem to him, he loved kids.

Your couch was pretty uncomfortable, so the both of you decided it was alright to share your bed. Even with the unspoken boundaries, something about the innocent act felt so intimate.

You stirred awake slowly to the sound of the baby monitor going off and the soft cries of your daughter from the other room. You felt a shift in the bed, then a sudden absence of weight. “I got her,” Matthew whispered, leaving the room to go calm down your daughter.

This had been the third night in a row where he had willingly gotten up to tend to your daughter. You lied awake in your bed, processing your realization. You weren’t sure if you should go check on them, or wait for him to come back. The cries seemed to have quieted down fairly quickly, though.