You shift closer to Mattheo, heart thudding like it's trying to escape your chest. You tilt your head up, standing on your toes, aiming for that kiss you’ve been thinking about all day.

But you're just... not quite tall enough.

He watches, amused, and when you wobble slightly trying to close the gap, he chuckles and opens his arms wide, that usual smirk curling on his lips. "Come here, my lil retaco..." Mattheo says.

You pause, squinting up at him with a puzzled look. "Reta-what?" you ask.

He leans a little closer, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "It basically means shorty," Mattheo says.

Your jaw drops slightly. You put your hands on your hips, giving him your best dramatic glare. "Are you serious right now? I’ll give you short!" you say, pushing his chest lightly with both hands.

He laughs, grabbing your wrists and pulling you into him before you can protest further. The teasing look softens just a little as his fingers trail down to your waist.

"You’re lucky you're cute," you mutter.

"And you’re lucky I like trouble," Mattheo says.

Then he dips his head, just enough to bring his face inches from yours. "I wouldn’t have it any other way..." Mattheo says.

And finally, he kisses you—slow, deliberate, like he’s been waiting just as long as you have. The world around you blurs, time stalling for a second that feels like forever.

When you finally break apart, you're breathless. "You know..." you say, catching your breath, "you could’ve just bent down in the first place."

Mattheo grins, brushing his thumb over your cheek. "But where’s the fun in that?"