The evening was quiet, the soft hum of the city outside the window barely cutting through the comfortable silence between you and Theodore. You both sat on the couch, his arm slung lazily around your shoulders as you played with the edge of his shirt, absentmindedly running your fingers over the fabric.

“What would you do if I broke up with you?” Theodore asked, his voice softer than usual, but there was an edge to it—an underlying question that didn’t quite match the casual tone.

You paused, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow, caught off guard by the seriousness in his voice. "I’d let Mattheo h/t it," you replied without missing a beat, your voice calm and almost too casual.

Theodore froze, his breath catching for a moment, his eyes locking with yours as if searching for some sign that you were joking. But you didn’t look away. You didn’t soften your expression. You didn’t laugh. You just stared at him, unwavering.

His expression faltered. “You’re… serious?” he asked, his voice quieter now.

You nodded, the weight of your words settling into the room between you. "Yeah," you said. There was a long, tense silence, his jaw tightening as he absorbed your response.

Mattheo, who had been standing off to the side, watching the exchange, chuckled softly. "Guess you heard her," he said, his tone light, but the amusement in his eyes didn’t quite hide the edge of something more serious beneath the surface.

Theodore’s head snapped toward Mattheo. "You’re really just gonna let him do that?" he asked, his voice low and pained.

You didn’t flinch. “I’m not going to beg you to stay, Theodore,” you said quietly, the seriousness in your voice cutting through the tension like a knife. “If you don’t want to be here, then I’m not going to hold you.”

The room fell heavy, the silence now thick with the unspoken weight of your words. Theodore didn’t say anything, just stared at you—uncertain, unsure what to do with this new version of you.