Matt's had enough of the bullshit tonight, and after a few drinks with his friends, trying to pretend like everything's fine, he sees you and just like that, he knows exactly what he needs. No sweet talk, no games, just raw, undeniable chemistry.

You’re not here to talk, and neither is he, the vibe between you two is thick with tension, and before you know it, he’s got you at his apartment.

He doesn’t waste time, pulling you inside, his hands on you, but not gentle; he’s hungry for something real, something to make the pain go away, and he doesn’t care who you are or where you come from.

"I don’t want you, but I want you here tonight,” he growls in your ear, voice low and rough. His lips brush against your neck, and you can feel his heartbeat racing. It’s like he's trying to forget something, or maybe someone. He doesn’t need to explain, and neither do you. You both know why you’re here.

“Fuck your name, fuck your birthday,” he mutters, eyes dark with desire. “You're just here to get me through this.”