All Because of an Accident|

0.95

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Show & Intellect
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I SIT ON the couch in the living room, mindlessly flipping through the pages of a magazine before I'm interrupted.

"Congilo," A deep voice resonates behind me. I turn my head only to see Mateo standing there, glass in hand. "good morning."

I could tell he had just woken up, his accent deep and voice hoarse. He was wearing nothing but sweats and slides as he walked around the couch, shirtless. He plopped beside me, his free arm going around the back of the couch where my head rests.

"Oh, good morning, Mateo." I say, noting he was drinking alcohol at eight in the morning. "I didn't know you stayed the night. I assumed you went home."

"No, I spent all night cleaning up and was too tired to drive back." He responded, sipping his drink.

"Cleaning up?" I mumble, instantly regretting it as I recall the mess he is referring to. He sees my dismay and pulls the magazine from my grasp.

"What're you reading?" He mutters, eyes glancing over the flimsy pages. I smile at his poor attempt at a distraction.

"Just something I found lying around. I got bored but didn't want to turn on the TV this early." I reply. He hums, flipping a page before tossing the magazine to the side.

"Make as much noise as you want." He scoffs, leaning forward to grab the remote off the table.

"But people are sleeping." I counter.

"My brother pays them. And given how much he pays them, they should've been up at the crack of dawn." He says, shoving the remote in my direction. "Watch your shows."

I smile, taking the remote and pushing the red button that turned on the large screen. Mateo looks up at the screen expectedly, most likely assuming I'll watch something that'll peak his interest.

"What're you gonna watch?"

•••••

Mateo makes great company surprisingly, given how we first met.

The both of us have been yelling and laughing at the screen together for almost two hours. I'd nearly forgotten about the other people in the house just as a throat is cleared behind us.

Mateo, who had control of the remote, pauses the show as soon as we hear it. We simultaneously turn, only to be met with a irritated Prince.

Prince must have just woken up, too. He was similarly dressed as Mateo: sweats, slides, and shirtless. The two had nearly the same build but the major difference was that Princes' body was covered in tattoos. The ink trailed up and down his torso and arms, and somewhat up his neck. His hair was a mess but still looked perfect.

"Brother." Mateo greets dryly.

"Tell me how it is possible that I wake up this morning alone in bed." Prince questioned, his voice deep and hoarse, too, his accent catching me off guard.

"What's that got to do with me?" Mateo muttered, turning back to the TV and playing it.

"I'm not speaking to you, dumbass." Prince curses, turning back to me. I smile up at him.

"I'm sorry. I wanted to get up early today and you looked so peaceful; I didn't want to wake you up." I respond.

"I'd much rather be woken up by you then to wake up by myself." He states, walking closer to the couch. Mateo fake gagged, making me giggle, and stood from the couch and tossed the remote at me.