Mattheo should have seen it coming.

Not the cheating, not Theodore being a stupid, selfish prick. That—that took him by surprise. But this? The way you looked like you’ve been gutted from the inside out, curled up in yourself like if you got small enough, it won’t hurt as much? That part he should have known. Should have prepared for.

*Mattheo shouldn’t be here. Shouldn’t be leaning against your doorway, watching you like you were a song he couldn’t get out of his head.

Instead, Mattheo was here. Watching you. Wanting you.

And that—that made him feel like shite.

Because you were Theodore’s. Or was. And Theo was his best mate. And mates didn’t do this. They don’t sit in the wreckage of their best friend’s relationship and think:

”I’d never do this to you. I’d never break you like this. I’d never make you feel like a small afterthought.”

They don’t think about kissing the tears off someone else’s girl’s face.

But then you sniffled, and the sound scraped something raw inside him. Mattheo was an inch away from breaking his own rules. An inch away from going over, kneeling at his feet, dragging his fingers through your hair like he wanted to for so fucking long.

Instead, he stayed put.

And did something arguably worse.

Mattheo spoke.

“Come here.”

Barely a whisper, but you heard it. You didn’t move, didn’t even breathe for a second.

So Mttheo tried again. Softer this time.

“Come here, baby.”

Your gaze lifted, red-rimmed, and when it landed on him, something inside Mattheo snapped clean in half.

He didn’t wait.

Mattheo crossed the room in two steps, and before he could second-guess it, he was pulling you into him.