𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐈𝐓 𝐎𝐅𝐅 ( 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐎 )

𝟬𝟬𝟰, 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴

the first thing he sees is an open closet. he spots an array of garments—dresses, blouses, and skirts—hanging in a curated display. the colors and patterns seem to tell a story, a narrative of someone else's taste and preferences, each piece a brushstroke in the portrait of a person he doesn't truly know.

the next thing he sees are his jeans and belt lying in a pile from where he threw them last night.

the realization sets in, a subtle discomfort settling in his chest. he shifts slightly, feeling the warmth of another body beside him. the girl from the night before lies there, still in the hazy embrace of slumber. his eyes trace the contours of the room, taking in the subtle details—the framed pictures on the wall, the soft glow of a bedside lamp.

turning his head to look at the girl he spent the night with, he notices her arm draped lazily across his back. the touch, once a fleeting moment of connection, now feels like an encumbrance. a faint scent of her perfume lingers in the air, an echo of decisions made in the dim light of the previous evening.

he doesn't like this girl's perfume very much, and he often finds himself feeling this way when he spends the night with girls, noting that there's only one who seems to carry a scent that he actually likes. the one girl who doesn't even like him right now.

summoning the courage to disentangle himself from the remnants of the night, matt gently moves her arm, careful not to disturb her sleep. not because he'd care if he wakes her up, but because he doesn't want to deal with questioning of when he does.

as he sits up, the sheets slide away, revealing the aftermath of a night spent in pursuit of something elusive. matt casts a final glance at the sleeping figure, her presence a reminder of the choices he finds himself making.

he looks around the room, trying to find his phone. he probably has about a million missed calls from his brothers. he left the house last night and didn't tell anyone. he never does.

he spots his phone and has to hold himself back from groaning. of course it is on the opposite side of them room. lying on the nightstand to the left of the girl. matt sighs as he carefully reaches across her.

the girl starts shifting from right underneath his body and he freezes. biting the inside of his cheek, he prays silently that she stays asleep. he does not feel like hearing his name from this girl right now.

after a few moments of a slow-mo moment of fear, the girl goes still once more. matt quickly grabs his phone and puts the bright screen against his chest so the room isn't illuminated even more.

now, matt needs to get out of here without waking her up. he gently pushes himself off the bed and picks up his jeans. he begins to slip into them, moving as quietly as possible. every creak of the bed makes him wince, but the girl remains undisturbed.

he walks over to the foot of his bed and spots his shirt. with the way his clothes are practically a trail back to the door, it's like matt is reliving the night over again.

not something he wants to do by the way.

he slips his shirt over his head and once dressed, matt tiptoes to the bedroom door, pausing to locate his shoes. he finds them scattered near the entrance. as he puts them on, he shoots one last glance at the sleeping girl, relief washing over him because she didn't wake up.

he could literally be a spy with his skill.

with shoes in hand, matt eases the bedroom door open, making his way out of the unfamiliar room. he closes the door softly behind him, leaving behind the scent of a night he'd rather forget.

matt moves through the hallway, glancing around for any signs of life in the house. the quiet hum of morning sunlight filters through a window, casting a warm glow on the hallway floor. he navigates the space, trying to recall the layout from the blurry memories of the night before.