Mattheo was halfway through his bag of crisps when you said it.

“We’re breaking up.”

The crunch stopped mid-bite. He blinked, hand frozen halfway to his mouth. “Again? Over what now?”

You crossed your arms, trying to look serious, though the corner of your mouth was already threatening betrayal. “You breath too loud while eating crisps.”

He stared at you like you’d just confessed to murder. “…you’re evil.”

“You sound like a tractor,” you shot back, unimpressed.

Mattheo dropped the crisp, leaned back with a smirk spreading slow and shameless. “Then ride me. Problem solved.”

Your jaw fell open. “You did not just—”

He popped another crisp into his mouth, utterly unbothered. “I did. Still breaking up with me, or should I get another bag?”