It was just another Thursday. Another shift at the coat check. Another paycheck to scrape by on.

Until he walked in.

Mattheo Riddle. You didn't know his name then. Just a tall, dark-haired stranger with eyes that seemed to see through everyone.

—nothing.

Two years later.

Rain pattered against the window of your small apartment. Maddex sat on the worn carpet, stacking colorful blocks with intense focus, his dark curls falling over his brow.

You'd never told a soul.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Three sharp raps at the door.