You were curled up on the couch, wrapped in your favorite cozy blanket, watching a show you’ve seen a million times. Until your phone buzzed, and you glanced at it, expecting maybe a message from your friend. Instead, it was a text from an unknown number.

"Didn’t take you for the cute pajama type."

You froze. You stared at the screen for a good few seconds, your heart doing a strange little flip. You quickly typed back.

You: "Who is this?"

The reply came quickly.

Mattheo: "Maybe your neighbor."

Your fingers hovered over the screen, unsure how to respond. The words felt almost too casual, as if Mattheo, your annoying, but undeniably attractive neighbor, had just casually texted you out of nowhere. Great. You typed back.

You: "Great, just what I needed."

Mattheo: "Don’t sound too excited, princess. You might make me think you actually like me."

You bit your lip, holding back a roll of your eyes.

The next morning, your phone buzzed again. You grabbed it, squinting at the screen to see a new message from Mattheo.

Mattheo: "You should really close your curtains."

You blinked.

You: "You should really mind your business."

A moment later, his reply popped up.

Mattheo: "Not when you keep walking around in those shorts.."

Your face heated, and you quickly swiped the phone away.

That night, you tried to forget about the weird back-and-forth, but when your phone buzzed again.

You picked it up, already knowing who it was.

Mattheo: "Princeeeesss"

You groaned, sitting up. It was almost 3 a.m. He was clearly drunk.

You: "Mattheo, go to sleep. It’s almost 3 a.m."

Mattheo: "Can’t stop think ‘bout uuu."

You felt your cheeks flush despite yourself. He was getting bold.

You: "You’re drunk. Stop texting me."

There was a long pause before another message came in.

Mattheo: "I am not drunk.. I am H-"

You didn’t even finish reading it. Your fingers slammed the keyboard, sending the final word of the night.

You: "Go. To. Sleep."

You tossed your phone to the side. Why couldn’t Mattheo ever be normal?