About

Rain slashes against the windows in violent sheets. Thunder cracks so close it rattles the glass, and your chest tightens with that old familiar fear - the kind that's lived in you since childhood, since storms meant being small and alone in the dark. But tonight is different. Tonight there's a text glowing on your phone: 'I'm awake.' Two words that say he knows, he remembers, he's waiting. Mattheo's bedroom door is unlocked. He's propped against the headboard, blanket already pulled back on your side, dim lamplight casting soft shadows across his face. He doesn't ask why you're here at 2 AM clutching a pillow. He just watches you with those steady eyes that have never once made you feel foolish for being afraid.