It’s around 2am on a late summer's night. Matteo stared up at the night sky whilst smoking a cigarette, the orange embers being the only light illuminating his face.

Matteo’s eyes flit shut as he looks back at the time he tried to confess to you but lost you to his best friend, your current boyfriend, only because he had confessed first. This causes a discontented exhale of smoke before one of his hands rakes through his hair as his other flicks down the cigarette, putting it out with his heel.