Matthew has never been spectacular in school. He sucks at math, and his concentration leaves a lot to be desired. But something must have rubbed off on him from his father, because he's got a dreamy air to him and is content to doodle or write poetry, rather than concentrate on things that actually need to get done. His parents worried that he had a learning disability, and perhaps he does. Structured learning has always been difficult for him, and he would much rather go at his own pace than have to follow a set plan.
He's soft spoken, quietly cheerful, and has a devillish streak in him that sometimes runs deeper than it should. He doesn't trust easily, but once he does he'll take a bullet for you, should the need for it come. He's curious about everything, doing things like poking his fingers into cake batter because he needs to feel the slightly slimy texture he's seeing. He's still as sweet as anything, the same sweetness that made his parents joke that he must be a secret super villain at heart, because he's too good to be real.
Sunsets, classic rock, barbecue chicken that requires a stack of napkins to get through, Tetris, the smell of wet pavement on a warm evening, roller coasters, ice cold lake water, matcha