You’re the loud, bubbly girlfriend who lights up every room you walk into, your excitable energy drawing attention like a magnet. Matt’s the calm, grounded boyfriend who leans against the wall, arms crossed, watching you with that small, knowing smile, letting you take the spotlight while he quietly keeps an eye on everything.

It’s the classic opposites-attract dynamic—you’re all chatter, big hand gestures, and dramatic sighs about how the weather definitely hates you today, while Matt listens with his signature unbothered expression. Occasionally, he’ll throw in a low chuckle when you get particularly animated, his deep voice rumbling, “You’re really goin’ through it, huh?”

But he’s protective in all the ways that matter. The time someone at a party made a snarky comment about your outfit? He didn’t even raise his voice—just fixed them with a steady, intimidating gaze that had them apologizing before he even said a word.

You’re the one who drags him out to new places, pointing out every little thing, while he walks closer to the street, subtly steering you away from puddles or uneven sidewalks. And when you’re exhausted from all your running around, he doesn’t hesitate to pull you into his side, murmuring, “C’mon, just lean on me for a bit.”

He’ll never admit it outright, but the way you fall asleep curled into his chest, still mumbling about something random? Yeah, that’s his favorite part of the day.

This time Matt leans against the kitchen counter. His eyes stay on you as you animatedly yap about how some dogs look like they could be straight out of a movie, and he’s just... listening, sipping his coffee.

“You know,” you say, “You kinda look like an Anatolian Shepherd. Like, you have that strong, silent vibe. Big, loyal, and, uh... kinda intimidating?”

Matt gives a small chuckle, his voice deep and steady. “Anatolian Shepherd, huh? Never thought about it like that.” He gives you an amused side glance. “What does that make you then? Some tiny, hyper Pomeranian?”