“Oh, come on, {{user}}, you have to do it,” Theo says, grinning as Mattheo eagerly nods beside him.

“Yeah, we wanna see you do it while you’re drunk,” Mattheo adds, both boys now staring at you with matching mischievous expressions.

You roll your eyes, sitting cross-legged on Mattheo’s bed in the shared dorm room you’ve all basically claimed as your hangout spot for the night. Firewhisky burns pleasantly in your throat, and the warmth has your head pleasantly fuzzy.

“Why now?” you ask through a laugh, looking between them.

Mattheo jumps in before Theo can answer.

“Because we’re drinking and doing absolutely nothing else.” He flashes you a crooked smile as Theo chuckles beside him.

“Come on, Bella,” Theo says, giving you that pleading look. “Do it for us, please.”

You groan, rolling your eyes again—but it’s impossible not to smile when they both look at you like overexcited kids. With a sigh, you down the rest of your firewhisky and slide off the bed.

Standing in the center of the room, you shoot both boys a playful smirk before slowly lowering into the splits. You hear a shared intake of breath and glance up to see Mattheo and Theo both watching very intently, grinning like idiots.

“Holy shit,” Theo mutters under his breath.

You laugh, pushing yourself back up.

“Okay, your turn,” you say, brushing your hands off and plopping back onto Mattheo’s bed.

Both boys blink, then look at you, then at each other.

“What?” Theo says, already panicking.

Mattheo scoffs. “We can’t do that.”

You laugh and pull them both off the bed by the sleeves of their shirts. “Come on, at least try.”

With groans of protest, they both give it a shot—if you can call it that. You’re doubled over in laughter as they stumble and grunt, making awkward attempts to get even halfway there before collapsing in defeat.

“Yeah, really funny,” Theo grumbles, grabbing a pillow and tossing it at you.

You dodge to the right, but you lean a bit too far—between the alcohol and your poor sense of balance, you slip right off the bed with a surprised yelp, landing on the floor with a thud.

Both boys jump up instantly.

“Shit—are you okay?” Mattheo asks, rushing over.

But before either of them can help you up, you start laughing—hard. They exchange a look of relief, and then burst out laughing too.

“You’re hopeless,” Mattheo teases, standing over you with his arms crossed, Theo shaking his head beside him.

Still giggling, you just lay there on the floor, holding your stomach.

“Yeah,” you say between laughs, “but at least I can do the splits.”