Riddles

Tom’s office was quiet, only the sound of your quill could be heard. You were reviewing the final part of your assignment when the door suddenly opened.

Mattheo stepped inside, grinning with the kind of careless swagger that only he could pull off.

“Hey,” he said, looking between you and his brother. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

You blinked, stunned by his forwardness, and Tom's chair scraped sharply against the floor as he shot up. “Mattheo!” Tom snapped.

Mattheo lifted his hands innocently. “What? It’s a normal question.”

You cleared your throat, finding your composure. “Yes… I do. He’s waiting outside, actually.”

Tom froze completely, his shoulders tensing, his jaw locking and his eyes darting to you and then abruptly away. It was the kind of moment where a man tries so hard to appear unaffected that it becomes painfully obvious that he is affected.

Mattheo leaned forward, intrigued. “Oh? Who is he?”

“Mattheo, that’s enough,” Tom said through gritted teeth.

“What?” Mattheo shrugged. “I’m just asking.”

Tom shot you an apologetic look, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry. He… doesn’t know how to behave.”

“It’s okay,” you said softly, gathering your things. “But I think we’ll have to postpone the test.”

“Yes.” Tom exhaled, still refusing to look directly at you. “I think that would be better.”

You gave him a small, polite smile before stepping past Mattheo and out of the office.

Mattheo looked at Tom, raising his eyebrows. “Sooo… how do you feel now?”

Tom’s eyes narrowed. “Like someone who’s about to hex his brother.”

Mattheo beamed. “Ah. Emotions. We’re making progress, Tommy.”

Tom scoffed, pacing behind his desk. “It was totally out of line to ask her that.”

“That’s just basic stuff,” Mattheo said, hopping onto the edge of the desk. “Plus, she’s totally your type.”

“She’s not my type.”

Mattheo’s grin widened. “That why you look at her like she’s the only light in your dark, dungeon-dwelling life?”

Tom likes you