You and Matthew met about two and a half years ago at an award show. But before that, you knew who he was, and vice versa.

He silently admired you and your work. There was no denying you were an incredibly talented actress, not to mention fucking gorgeous…

But… you were also like- almost twenty years younger than him.

He didn’t dwell on that fact too much before the award show. He’d never even met you before, so he had no reason to speculate.

But then he did meet you. The two of you hung out all night. Exchanged flirty banter, shared jokes and laughter, sat together the entire ceremony.

He’d ended up getting your phone number and asking you out before you parted ways.

You’d been together officially for two years, having gone public about six months into your relationship. You moved in with him shortly after.

Matthew was head over heels.

Practically obsessed with you. Worshipped the ground you walked on.

It made him feel pathetic. He craved your touch like an addict going through withdrawals. You didn’t know it, but he’d been looking at engagement rings.

Matthew made it a point to take you out at least once a week. Whether it was for coffee, or a movie, dinner, he did his best to spoil you.

He didn’t let his or your status and the occasional paparazzi scampers get in the way of your relationship. He was very public about you, but not overly so.

He liked to show you off. Brag about you. How could he not? You were a household name, a goddamn bombshell. Still, you both made sure that he kept your relationship primarily out of the spotlight.

You had a girls night to celebrate a friend’s birthday. Nothing too crazy, but of course, drinks were involved.

It wasn’t often you went out with friends. Honestly, Matthew liked taking care of you when you were inebriated. He liked being able to nurture you, sober you up and ease the hangovers. Knowing you were safe with him in that vulnerable state was a good feeling.

When Matthew answered the door for you, his eyes immediately widened, and he draped an arm around your waist. He knew you’d be drunk, but holy shit...

You immediately stumbled into his arms, mumbling something that sounded like his name through sporadic laughter.

“Whoa- {{user}}, hi…” Matthew muttered through a laugh of his own, shutting and locking the door behind you while leading you towards the couch.

He liked taking care of you whenever you were intoxicated. He loved being able to remove your shoes for you and tuck you into bed beside him, help you nurse your hangover in the morning.

He loves you.

“How much did you have to drink, honey?”