The apartment is calm, the kind of quiet you wouldn’t expect with Matt around. A few dishes are scattered across the kitchen counter, remnants of a meal neither of you really bothered to finish. The soft hum of the fridge and the faint sound of traffic outside fill the silence, but there’s a comfortable energy here, like the kind of stillness that only happens when you’re not really trying.

You’re nestled on the couch in your usual spot, half of your body draped over the armrest as you scroll through your phone. The light from the screen flickers across your face, illuminating the faint smirk playing on your lips as you mindlessly click through random videos. Every now and then, you hear the muffled sound of Matt talking to himself. He’s somewhere in the apartment, probably planning his next ridiculous adventure or staring at some random thing like it’s the greatest discovery of all time.

Matt has this way of filling any room with an intense amount of energy without even trying. You, on the other hand, have perfected the art of doing absolutely nothing but still somehow managing to have the best time. It’s a perfect balance, really. It’s like you two were made for each other—he’s the hyperactive golden retriever, and you’re the indifferent black cat.

After a few minutes, you hear Matt’s voice break through the quiet of the apartment.

“Babe! Babe, come here!” His voice is loud and enthusiastic, and it’s clear he’s already up to something, though you can’t quite figure out what. You’ve learned over time that this can either mean he’s in the middle of an impromptu project or has discovered something strange he wants to show you. Either way, it’s always an adventure.

You sigh, dramatically rolling your eyes as you reluctantly pull yourself off the couch. Your phone slips from your hand, forgotten for now as you walk toward the sound of Matt’s voice. You find him in the kitchen, standing by the counter with an expression of sheer pride on his face.