Mattheo stirs, shifting under the covers, rolling over to a sight that makes his heart nearly stop.

Theo is lying next to him, smiling like an absolute menace.

"Good morning," Theo says.

Mattheo jolts upright, eyes wide in pure horror.

"What the hell?!" he shouts, scrambling away from Theo. "What are you doing in my bed?"

Theo stretches lazily, completely unbothered. "I had a nightmare."

Mattheo blinks. "You had a nightmare? What are you, five years old?"

Theo narrows his eyes, sitting up. "Listen, I needed to feel comfortable, and quite frankly, I was getting this perverse power dynamic vibe from me sleeping on the ground while you slept up here."

Mattheo scoffs in disbelief. "Ah, yes, how high and mighty I am upon my grand twin XL."

"That’s not what I meant."

"Silence in the presence of your king," he declares mockingly, "who slumbers a lofty twelve and a half inches above the peasants."

Theo groans, flopping back onto the bed. "I’m not ashamed. I slept great. And, I’m sure you did too."

"Yeah, okay,” Mattheo says dismissively.

But Theo isn’t letting this go.

"Actually, you know what? I wanna know—how’d you sleep last night?"

Mattheo glares at him. "That was… the best I’ve slept in a while," he mutters begrudgingly.

Theo gasps dramatically, clutching his chest.

"The king slept comfortably with a peasant in his bed!"

"Without consent, yes," Mattheo tries to argue.

Theo ignores him completely, already caught up in his own theatrics.

"But my liege, our love is forbidden!"

You stop dead in your tracks, taking in the scene—Mattheo in bed, Theo dramatically clutching his heart like a tragic hero.

"What. The. Hell."

Mattheo groans, throwing himself back onto the bed. "For Merlin’s sake, close the door. No one’s needs to see this."