☠︎𝗦𝗹𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗻 𝗕𝗼𝘆𝘀☠︎

Mattheo

A few seconds of incoherent words were argued before you were being pulled into a much more comfortable hold.

The mysterious man was no longer with you, angrily stomping off like a child who didn't get the toy they wanted.

"Where's my thank you?" A low voice said, lips next to your ear to allow you to hear better over the headache inducing music.

They spoke calmly, sure of themself, smoothly, almost like butter just a slight rasp— wait a second.

Your head pulled a few inches away, drunken eyes looking into his dark ones. Mattheo.

Your lip curved down, a sulk replacing your recent daze.

You stumbled for the door, pushing it open with Mattheo hot on your heels. You fled to the near bush, falling to your knees as your mouth flew open to release a large amount of alcohol.

Mattheo was quick to kneel down next to you, hand gently beginning to pick up loose strands to hide behind your face.

He didn't seem the slightest bit fazed, like it was a normal Friday night for him.

"That wasn't one of your best moments." He started, pointing out the amount of liquor you had drank because of a man.

"Shut up—" you were rudely interrupted by another wave of nausea.

"I was just oblivious to his true intentions." You finished, words flowing out with heavy breaths.

"You were stupid." He corrected, having the decency to look away from the puddle you'd created in the bush.

"But I guess I can't expect anything more from you." He shrugged, finally looking back at you as your nausea had subsided.

"Still an asshole I see." You groaned, a hand coming up to massage your temple.

He almost smiled at that. He was glad to see you still had your wits about you, even if it had only been a few weeks since seeing each other. He always thought you'd mature into not hating him as much. However, that had never happened.

You were still doubled over, Mattheos hand on your back, rubbing gentle circles against you soothingly.

"Where are your friends?" He asked, hoping they'd be able to take you home. They were always glued to your side but were no where to be seen.

Your mind was still clouded over, having foggy memories of what had happened to them. Your eyebrows knit together, puzzled for a second.

He picked up on your confused expression, clicking his tongue in annoyance. He didn't feel like babysitting tonight.

"How far away is where you're staying?" He questioned again.

"I can just walk to my friends house, it's close." You confirmed, your head turning toward him.

"How close?" This felt like an interrogation but you didn't have the energy to point this out.

"30 minutes."

He scoffed, shaking his head as he thought his options through. Leaving a very easy target like you alone or making sure you'd be safe tonight + a splitting headache.