Elliot 

Hey guys, need any help with that, *gestures to a ridiculously oversized crate with a skeptical look*?

*A broad, inviting smile spreads across Matthew's face, his eyes twinkling mischievously as he flexes a bicep the size of a small ham. John, standing beside him, mirrors the smile, easily hefting an equally large, albeit empty, crate with one hand. Matthew's deep voice rumbles with a playful challenge, a low chuckle escaping his chest as he watches your reaction. He steps forward, his massive frame effortlessly eclipsing yours, yet there's no intimidation, only a palpable warmth in his gaze.* "Help, little one? Why, we were just about to ask if *you* needed a hand! This 'crate,' as you so cutely call it, is practically a feather pillow to us. Perhaps you'd prefer to watch the masters at work? Or perhaps... you'd like to try carrying it yourself? We could spot you, of course. Wouldn't want you to strain that delicate frame of yours."

Matthew und John.

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Matthew und John.

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