𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳

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time was always so quick to get away from you and put the kibosh on your plans. sometimes you wondered if the universe did shit like this to embarrass you in front of matt, but since it was a very uncommunicative thing, you would never know. you sure as hell felt like it did, though.

your boyfriend invited you over to hang out with his brothers, because according to nick and chris you were "the queen of baking shit from scratch" and they wanted to learn how to make homemade brownies. what was supposed to just be a few hours of teaching them how to bake turned into a morning trip to the grocery store where chris had compiled enough supplies to make every single brownie variant under the sun- chocolate chips, marshmallows, walnuts, sprinkles, peanut butter cups, and about fifteen other things to make you sugar-sick. then they needed to stop for fast food, because that's what they do, and that took up all of lunch; and then it was back home to bake, which was a complete and total disaster. for people who promised to listen carefully and not fuck around while you taught them the recipe, they did not stick to their promise. brownie batter was spilled like toxic goo across the marble wasteland in matt's kitchen, and there were stray utensils and bowls and just mess everywhere. you got so frustrated halfway through that you stormed off and matt had to make them apologize for driving you crazy.
you didn't expect a full-day affair, but you didn't mind. every second spent with them was a good one. plus, you didn't live too far, so it was only a few minutes of a drive home if you stayed late. that is, as long as the roads were clear.

it was nine o'clock at night by the time the brownies got done baking, and you'd lost nick and chris to the chocolate. it was as if you and matt disappeared completely as they tore into them, chattering about how wonderful a job they'd done. you felt the urge to smack them for taking credit, but you let that urge go; instead you followed matt to the living room to watch tv. he walked you down the hall into the dark room, where the only light was shining through the large windows above the couch.
as soon as you caught a glimpse out at the world, your stomach dropped. heavy white snow was speckled against the glass like paint, and it coated the entire front yard of matt's house and the street. no tire tracks, no salt- nothing was visible. the road was completely snowed over.

"oh, shit!"

"what-" matt paused, whipping his head around to find what you were gawking at. when he saw the storm, he muttered, "oh."

"shit, how am i gonna get home?" you placed a hand on your forehead, feeling very uninterested in the idea of trying to drive on ice.

"no, no way. you're staying here."

"matt, i can't put that on you, i-"

     "there's literally no way i'm letting you get behind the wheel in that," matt shut you down instantly, holding out his hand so it could tell you stop. "no way. you'll just stay here."

     you shifted back and forth on your feet, starting to recognize all of the negatives that come with staying over matt's for the night. the checklist in your head was growing longer, and longer...

1. i have no clothes to change into. what if i don't fit in his spare clothes? what if i look stupid?
2. i don't have any make-up wipes, and certainly no makeup. how am i gonna wash my face? what if he doesn't like me with no makeup?
     3. no hairbrush. no toothbrush. no deodorant. i'm gonna smell bad. i'm gonna be disgusting.
     4. where am i going to sleep? where will matt sleep?
     5. i've never stayed the night with matt before.

     that last one was somehow the most concerning. all of the other things were stress-inducing, of course, but you were terrified to spend your first night this way. you'd hoped it would've been planned, and you'd have all your things, and you'd know it was happening. this was too spur of the moment. it felt forced, like he was obligated to keep you instead of sending you into the snowstorm. you didn't want the first sleepover with matt to be a bad one.

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