mattheo never thought much about love, it was messy, complicated and ultimately not worth the trouble. He had his charm, his smirk and his sharp tongue and they were enough to get him whatever he wanted.

but then there was you. it hit him one night in the common room. You had fallen asleep on the couch, curled up under a green and silver blanket, your hair falling across your face. Mattheo was sitting on the floor beside you, pretending to read a book but sneaking glances at you every few seconds.

he didn’t know why he stayed. Maybe it was the way you looked so peaceful when you slept or the way his chest ached.

at the moment he just stared, his usual smirk replaced by something softer, something he didn’t recognise. And then it hit him : he cared, he really cared.

“bloody hell” he muttered to himself running a hand through his curls

he reached out brushing a strand of hair from your face with gentleness he didn’t know he had. You had stirred slightly, leaning into his touch and he felt his heart swell.

mattheo leaned back against the couch, his head tilting up toward the ceiling. “so this is what it feels like” he muttered a faint smile tugging at his lips.