FRAGILE || Matty Healy

// ONE //

When his eyes fluttered open, he was angry. Furious, really. Because he wasn't in heaven, neither in hell, neither anywhere else he would expect to find himself after dying. He was laying in a hospital bed, with needles stuck into his arms and different devices beeping around him, reminding him obnoxiously loudly that he was, in fact, very much alive.

"Matt?"

He raised his head and looked over to where George was sitting up on a small couch in the dark corner of the room and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. And he knew he should say he's sorry, say he didn't mean to, say he regrets it, but he couldn't, so he just sat there, waiting for everyone to hate him, to leave him, but instead of cold and hurt he got love and warmth he knew he didn't deserve. There were arms wrapping around his waist and a face in buried into his neck, whispering things that should be coming from his lips.

"I'm so sorry, I am so so sorry, Matty, I'm so sorry, I fucked up, and I'm so fucking sorry, fuck, Matty, please I-"

"George," he said sternly, and he felt the body that was pressing against his own tense up, and before he could say anything the warmth was gone and there was a pair of bloodshot eyes staring at him, questioningly, almost as if afraid he might break again.

"Mate, you were crushing me, you giant," Matt did his best to force a smile on his lips and he was pretty sure the rock falling off of George's chest could be heard from miles away before his warmth came back and George was sitting next to him on the hard hospital bed, one hand already tangled in his hair, massaging his scalp calmly. The thing was, he wasn't mad at him even though he should've been, he wasn't leaving as Matt expected, he was still there, and Matt wanted to scream at him, to tell him he deserves so much better than shitty friends who leave him, but he decided that would have to wait. He was angry, and empty, and sad, and just genuinely done with just about everything, but he knew that even if everything in him changed, this, this warmth that spread through him whenever he saw someone he cared about, would never go away, and he held on to that warmth like an anchor to a rope, through the ice cold waves of pain and anger, he held onto it, because he knew this rope wouldn't break anytime soon. He decided he had time.

And the darkness was still poisoning his veins, and everything he felt still had a layer of dark blue numbness laying over it, but there was also that little spark deep inside his chest that felt a lot like hope, and he knew the spark wasn't big enough to start a fire, and he wasn't sure if he wanted it to, but for now, that little spark was enough. His mind was hazy, his heart floating on dark wild waves and his soul lost in a cloud of regret and sorrow, and things felt too normal considering he just tried to kill himself.

"The doc said they will release you soon," George spoke up, breaking his chain of thoughts and bringing him back to reality of the pale hospital room.

"Oh, that's cool," he nodded, not really knowing what else to say.

"When they brought you in, your heart was collapsing-"

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't feel like it."

"No, actually, I need to talk about it. Your heart was collapsing and your arm was bleeding really bad, and you were so, so pale - you are always pale, but this was- ... they said you might not make it and you know what? I was so angry. Because I fucking knew that you wanted to do it, and I didn't do shit about it. And as I was sitting there, door away from where they were trying to save your life, I realized I had no fucking right to decide whether you will live or not - because I was a shitty friend, and I didn't even try to make things better, Matt. And you know what was the worst thing about that? I knew that you wouldn't want me to save you. I knew you would prefer death over  the life you had. And I wasn't ready to live the rest of my life knowing that the last thing I did for you was try to stop you from doing what you wanted the most. So I just sat there hoping  it would work out, because I am just that selfish to want you back just so I can clean up my own mess."

"I'm sorry."

"Me too."