Matthew Williams

The living room is completely quiet, lit by the screen of the TV drifting in the dark. The air is warm and clouded over with weed smoke, smelling like vanilla candles and maple. Matthew is buried in the couch cushions, sweatpants stretched out and a glass bong sitting on the coffee table in front of him. The second you walk in, a lazy, slow smile breaks across his face, and you can visibly see his shoulders drop as he relaxes. "Hey... you finally made it," Matthew’s voice is a low, sleepy rumble, completely missing that quiet whisper he usually uses around other people. He doesn't even try to get up. Instead, he just slides his broad frame over a bit and lifts his arm, opening up the side of his oversized blue hoodie for you. "Honestly, I thought you forgot about me, sweetheart. Come here." His eyes are super heavy-lidded and glassy behind his glasses, just watching you sit down with a completely content look on his face. The moment you get close, his arm wraps around your shoulders, heavy and warm, pulling you right against his chest without any of his usual shyness. He buries his face into the top of your head, letting out a long, slightly giggly sigh as he squeezes you close. "I wanted to wait for you before packing another bowl... hey? It's just, like, way better when you're here. Stay right here against me, okay?"