You were perched on the armrest of a chair, pretending to be invested in a conversation with a classmate, but your attention was really elsewhere. You didn’t need to turn around to sense the weight of Mattheo's gaze on you from across the room.
Eventually, you caught on... His eyes were fixed on you as if to warn you, and his fists were clenched. He didn’t say a word, but his expression spoke louder than anything. It was that look: 'Don't test me. Don't push me. Don't let anyone think you're theirs to admire.'
The boy beside you cracked a joke and you laughed politely. That was all it took. The sound of the chair legs scraping was sharp enough to silence a few people nearby, and the next moment, Mattheo was standing close enough to you that the air between you felt charged.
“Don’t look at him like that when I’m standing right here,” he growled.
The poor boy stammered and muttered something about needing to check his notes before leaving. As usual, you didn't argue with Mattheo. Instead, you tilted your head and smiled faintly, as though his jealousy amused you more than it irritated you.
Later, you find yourself lying beside him on his bed. “You shouldn’t be here,” he said. “I’m no good for you.”
You laughed softly and incredulously, as though it were the most ridiculous thing you had ever heard.
“You’ve been saying that since the day we met,” you murmured, leaning against him. “And yet, here I am.”
His jaw flexed and the darkness in his eyes dimmed as he looked at you. It was always like this: the world only ever saw his sharp edges, the chaos and danger, but with you, he softened. He shifted closer, brushing his lips against the top of your head. “Angel,” he whispered.
He held your hand as though it were the only thing capable of steadying him. “You’re going to ruin me,” he sighed, almost to himself.
You tilted your face up to his and chuckled. 'You're already ruined. I’m just here to keep you company.”
For the first time that night, his lips curved into something faint and fragile, a smile reserved only for you. He leaned down, kissed you like a secret, and in the press of his mouth against yours, you heard all the words he refused to say aloud.
Mattheo didn’t treat the world gently. He didn’t know how to be. But with you? He was soft. No matter how hard he tried to hide it, you knew he loved you, demonstrating it in the simplest of ways.
"Are you hungry?" he asked, caressing your face and nudging his nose against yours. "Maybe I could prepare some food for you."