He grabbed the collar of Adrian's shirt and ripped it open with one violent move, sending buttons flying across the hardwood floor.
Adrian froze for a second, panic rising in his eyes. Then the smell hit him a sharp, suffocating mix of heavy liquor and acrid smoke.
"Matteo… hey, hey, babe, calm down," he said quickly, trying to steady him. "I'm sorry… just take it easy."
But Matteo wasn't listening. His movements were erratic, driven by a rough energy. His touch had none of its usual gentleness. He moved with a frantic intensity, his eyes wide and glassy.
It wasn't until his grip tightened to the point of pain that Adrian truly saw him.
The realization hit hard.
Matteo wasn't just drunk. He wasn't just angry.
He was high.
"Please, baby… stop. We need to talk."
Matteo didn't hear him. He buried his face in Adrian's neck, his teeth grazing skin with a roughness that made Adrian wince.
