dark brown curls that fell just past his ears, soft and bouncy and always slightly messy, like he’d just rolled out of bed. you loved running your fingers through it, tugging on it when he kissed you too deep, laughing when he’d groan and call you a menace.

it was your favorite thing about him. maybe.

so when you push open the door to his dorm on a lazy saturday afternoon, the last thing you expect is the sight that greets you.

the floor is covered in dark hair. piles of it.

mattheo grins at you, all teeth, like he didn’t just commit a fucking crime.