WHO — @sonnysolis WHERE — sonny's apartment WHEN — 6:32am
The hallway was quiet — too quiet, if you asked Mateo. He stood outside her door with his hood pulled low, despite the fact that it was heating up outside. He shouldn't be here. He sure as hell couldn't afford to be seen here, but how else was he meant to talk to his sister? He crouched by the lock, glancing once over his shoulder before slipping a slim tool from his pocket — and like muscle memory, the lock gave away with a soft click, allowing him to slip into her apartment like a shadow. He took a step forward, careful not to let the door click shut behind him. Almost immediately, he begins pulling his hood over his head, thinking about the fact that he could've simply texted her. Then again, he wasn't a big phone guy. Mateo moved through the apartment like he belonged there, opening her fridge and grabbing a bottle of juice to pour into a cup, taking a long ass sip like she'd told him to make himself at home. When he heard the shuffle of footsteps behind him, he didn’t flinch—just leaned against the counter, cool and casual, like he hadn’t just broken in. "Don't scream," he said with his hands raised, amusement colouring his features. "Soy yo Mateo. No quería despertarte."