You push open the door to Theodore's dormitory and see him sprawled across his bed. His curls are a mess, his cheek pressed into the pillow. He's shirtless and there's a distinct haze in his half-closed eyes, as if he's still trying to process reality after last night.

Mattheo was here, you could tell.

You lean against the doorframe, smirking. "So," you begin, tilting your head, "how did it go with Mattheo last night?"

Theodore doesn't answer immediately. He looks around as if he doesn't know this is really happening. Finally, he lifts his head just enough to nod towards the pillow beside him. "He left a note," he mutters, his voice still thick with sleep.

You sit down on the bed beside him and take the piece of paper in your hands. Theodore watches you unfold it, his lips twitching slightly, as if he already knows what's coming.

Your eyes scan over the words and you blush furiously:

'Theo, I will come back for the as-...'

The sentence is left unfinished, the implication hanging heavy in the air.

'We’re really gonna have fun.'

You blink. Did you really read what you did?

You shake your head, glancing at Theodore, whose mouth curls into an amused grin. He lets out a deep chuckle, rubs his face, and props himself up on his elbows. "What the..." He breaks off. "I cannot believe how bold he is."

You laugh, tossing the note back onto the bed. "Oh, you're in trouble," you tease. "Big trouble. Do you think you can handle it? Because when Mattheo sets his sights on something—or someone—he doesn’t let go. Not until he takes everything he wants." You wink.

Theodore groans, flopping back against the pillows. "Honestly?" He lifts the note again, reading it over before letting it fall onto his chest. "I have no idea."

But the smirk playing at the corners of his lips tells you he's not exactly complaining.