Matt was 2 years older than you and has been in love with you for years.

You’re celebrating his win at his rugby game. “What is a no-go for you? Like, a type? Do you have a type?” You asked softly. He gave you a single-shouldered shrug.

“Brunette. Green eyes. Fuckin’ shy, apparently. How tall are you?”

“5’6.” You furrow your eyebrows.

“5’6,” He continues, “Pretty smile.”

“Cute fucking nose. Covered in freckles.” He leans down and kisses your nose.