[WAITLISTED] you were never mine // matthew boldy

12

I slowly batted my tired, crusty eyes to find the sun seeping through the metal blinds in Matt's room. He wasn't in the bed next to me, and the digital clock next to me read 8:21 in bright, red numbers.

I groaned and reached over to grab my phone from the charger, greeted by a cute picture of Matt's head laying on my chest, looking tired as I had my fingers waved through his soft, dark blonde hair. His blue-gray eyes pierced the camera with affection and kindness, and he looked like he was about ready to fall asleep on me.

I got up from the bed, groaning as the bed creaked, and stretched my arms and back.

I sniffed and smelled a scent of strawberry and whipped cream that emanated from the kitchen down the hall and around the corner.

Grabbing my phone, I walked out of the bedroom and down the hall to see what the particular scent was from.

I peeked around the corner and noticed Matt cooking pancakes on a countertop grill. Along with the pancakes, he was frying sausage and bacon on the stovetop next to the countertop grill. He was still in his outfit he wore to bed, which was a navy blue USA Hockey shirt and gray sweatpants. His hair was still somewhat messy, as if he had also just rolled out of bed.

"I thought Boston people didn't make breakfast, they just had tea, coffee, and donuts," I said to make my presence known to Matt.

He turned around and smiled with a soft chuckle. "I grew up an hour away from Boston. I'm not from there," he chuckled as he flipped his pancakes.

I rolled my eyes. "So you're saying you're from Boston," I said to annoy him, though I wasn't sure how he'd be the rest of the day. Considering we were planning on hanging out the entire day, starting with a coffee run.

"No, I'm from a small town called Milford. I lived closer to the Massachusetts/Rhode Island border than to Boston," he responded, turning back around to face me, folding his arms.

I scoffed. "Still from Boston," I smirked.

He rolled his eyes and messed around with the sausage and bacon in the frying pan on the stovetop. "You're more irritating than Brandon," he muttered as I slipped into one of the chairs at his table overflowing with junk mail and other unnecessary shit.

I smiled. "Oh, did I hurt someone's feelings?" I said in a baby-ish voice. "Does someone need a tissue?"

He stomped over to me and forcefully brought me up from my sitting position. "Say one more thing for the next few minutes and that pretty face of yours is gone." he threatened, pulling me closer to him.

I smirked. "By what?" I asked.

His blue-gray eyes glared into my eyes, then he gently put me down. "I'm sure you know exactly what I'm talking about," he told me, then he walked back over to tend to his food.

I rolled my eyes and sat back down in my chair.

After Matt was done making breakfast, he dished up both of our plates and we went to eat on his couch. He flipped on the television and put on a rom-com about a couple stuck on the island of Guam.

I took the first bite out of his strawberry pancakes he made with butter and whipped cream on top, sprinkled with mini chocolate chips. My mouth immediately melted in flavor, and I suddenly wanted more.

"Holy shit," I muttered, swallowing the pancake bite.

Matt glanced at me as he stuffed his mouth with his own pancakes. He smirked as he pulled the fork out of his mouth. "Are they good?" he asked after he swallowed his bite.

I nodded my head, stuffing my face more with his angelic pancakes.

He chuckled. "Some would say I'm better than Gordon Ramsay," he added with a wink.