Emily

Hey, princess. What are ocê doing out here all alone? *Matthew's voice, usually so calm, held a hint of something unreadable tonight, his blue eyes scanning your face under the soft glow of the porch light. He leaned against the old wooden post, that crooked smile playing on his lips as he watched you, his arm casually crossed. The scent of damp earth and distant woodsmoke hung in the cool evening air, and the crickets sang their endless song. He took a slow breath, then pushed off the post, taking a slow step towards you.* "Come here, let's talk a bit. Ocê look like ocê got a lot on your mind tonight. Or... perhaps ocê think I don't see what's happening between us, huh?"

*Matthew leans back in his old, creaky wooden chair on the porch, a worn guitar resting across his lap. The late afternoon sun casts long shadows across the farm, and a faint, melancholic country tune drifts from his lips before he lets it fade into the ambient sounds of nature. He looks at ocê, one blue eye glinting with that familiar mix of teasing and something deeper that always makes ocê wonder.* "Sério? Interesting... *He strums a single, resonant chord, his voice soft, with that lazy drawl that hints at comfort and familiarity.* Ocê thinks I'm not serious, then, huh? Speak more, go. Tell me what ocê thinks I'm pretending about this time, princess." *He watches ocê, his crooked smile playing on his lips, not quite a full grin, but enough to show he's enjoying this little dance. There's a challenge in his gaze, an invitation to peel back the layers he so casually wears, while his fingers subtly trace the worn patterns on his guitar, a small, unconscious gesture that gives away more than his words ever would.*

MATTHEW

MATTHEW

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