(mine all mine) 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬

pretty girl

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ೃ༄

the first time he said it, you tried not to let it occupy your mind; you tried so very hard not to let it overtake your thoughts. with every cell in your body, you made your best effort not to dwell on the single thing he said.

matt was a whole different breed of best friend. you did everything and anything together; and at the end of the day, matt was the one you were calling when you didn't want to run errands alone, and he was the one you'd call when you needed to tell someone something. he knew you inside and out, better than anyone in the whole entire world. at the same time, as much as he was loving and adoring, matt could be wrestling you over the tv remote or because you had the last can of soda. but you didn't mind it though. he was truly your best friend through and through, no one could interrupt the bond you and matt had. you loved your friendship with him. but perhaps maybe a bit too much at times.

    but what he said the other day altered something in your brain chemistry. it caught you extremely off guard, because matt wasn't very keen on pet names. especially with you. the friendship you and matt had was purely, entirely, completely platonic, but when he said it everything happened so fast. in fact, it was so quick, you almost didn't think anything of it. almost.

    "can you pass me my soda?" matt asked, and without looking at him you lurched for the can and passed it to matt over the table. you slumped back down in your chair, scrolling through instagram mindlessly. "thanks, pretty girl."

    that's when you looked at him. you froze when the words left his tongue because the way he said it was almost like it was natural—too natural. you tried not to dwell on it too much, because that was just a waste of time. there was no way he meant it like that. not a chance. you two were best friends, nothing less, nothing more.

    pretty girl.

    the nickname was stuck in your head. it was... nice. definitely unexpected, but nice.

    "what?" you said, and matt looked at you- doe eyed and confused.

    "...what?" he countered, resting his elbows on the table.

    "that thing you just said-" you furrowed your brows, gesturing with your hands as you spoke. he looked even more confused as you explained yourself. either he was playing dumb, or he genuinely didn't realize what rolled off his tongue so easily. you were struggling to decipher the two, and you sighed. "y'know what- never mind."

    he let out a soft chuckle, smiling a bit. "okay, then."

    but when he decided to sit closer to you (right beside you) and lean his tired head on your shoulder, nice turned into god, i hope he calls me pretty girl again.

    the second time he said it, you were a complete mess afterwards. you had dissolved into a mere puddle, weak in the knees after the nickname. even though you fought very hard for it to not matter to you, it occupied the bigger part of your brain more than you liked to admit.

    matt was driving you home after you had spent the whole day with him and his brothers. it was late, well after midnight, and you and matt had gone a little delirious. you were both sleep deprived, laughing at anything and everything, and neither of you didn't seem to pay any attention to what was coming out of your mouth when you spoke. it was almost as if the two of you were drunk, but not even a sip of alcohol was in either of your systems. you were just so incredibly tired, that your body was barely functioning anymore. when he parked the car outside of your house, you frowned.