Been To Hell

Chapter 2: Typical.

I was woken up by the sound of Jesus' muffler blowing loudly in the parking lot. The bedroom window was open a bit to let in some cool night air. I knew it was Jesus dropping off Matty because it was just after one in the morning and he only works until one. I heard the car door open, loud talkin. I could hear what they were saying.

"Thanks for the ride, Jesus. I'll call you tomorrow when I know what's going on." Matty's voice was exactly quiet, and his voice is very unique. Therefore it's easily heard.

"Don't worry about it, Señor. Just let me know if you still have your job." Jesus replied to Matty's statement. My heart dropped into a black hole and my stomach twisted. 'Matty might've lost his job?' I thought to myself as I laid in bed motionless. Matty chuckled hardily.

"I'll let you know if I still have a home and a girlfriend." Matty laughed amusedly. 'Wow Matty, do you really think that I'll dump you and kick you out because you lost your job?' I was personally offended by his comment, joking or not, it wasn't cool. He thinks I'm some kind of gold digger, I'm not. I genuinely love him, inside and out. And if he thinks that losing a lousy paying job will make me leave him then he's dead wrong. I don't care about the money, I don't care if he lost his job and needs to go on work assist to help get us through the month debt free. But he does and it kills him inside to not be able to provide for the two of us. He likes working. It's how he gets away from reality and it calms him down. If working makes him happy then I want him to work. God dammit I want him to work if that makes him happy.

"Don't sweat it, Señor, your lady will love you no matter what." Jesus was right. I will love him no matter what. I heard hardy laughter then the car door slammed shut. The car left the parking lot, I didn't hear Matty coming up the stairs yet.

"I sure hope you're right." I heard Matty say to no one. My heart broke inside my chest. There was heavy footsteps coming up the stairs and down the hall. Matty loudly cleared his throat as he passed by our bedroom window. I closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep. Matty hates it when he wakes me up when he gets home. He says he'd much rather have the day shifts than the night ones. But Matty has some things that he needs to do during the day for me. He drives me to my creative writing classes and to work, then we go to the gym. And on certain days we do some groceries and go for lunch, maybe hang out with our friends. Matty is needed during the day, I need him. Besides if he works during the day he'll be even more grumpy, he's not a people person. He would much rather sit in the living room and read, or paint, or spend time helping my mom around the house, or even spend time with me. When he's out he needs to have either me or one of his friends with him so people don't bother him. I'm not saying he's a mean person, he's very friendly and kind but he'd rather be alone. And when he works at night he's given a task and left to it. Nobody bothers him.

I buried my face into the cool pillow when I heard the bedroom door open and close again. I heard footsteps approach the side of the bed, he untied his work boots and kicked them off before working at his belt. The metal belt rattled loudly before it dragged his pants down to the floor with a audible 'thump'. I heard clothing rustling around then hit the ground, probably his shirt which would be covered in sweat, grease and oil. At this point I assumed he was only in his boxer briefs. I tried to pretend that I was sleeping but I really wanted to turn my head to catch a glimpse of his tattoos as he undressed. I adore his artistry and the sculpting of his body, the muscle tone was admirable and the way his tattoos sat on those muscle made him look like a painting Da Vinci painted in an art gallery in Rome. His soul was just as beautiful, and that's why I think he's too good for the life he's had. But then again, the most beautiful creatures have has to crawl out of the depths of hell.

There was a massive indent on his side of the bed which was followed by the sheets shifting and finally a heavy sigh when he managed to get comfortable. I smiled when I felt his chest press against my back and his arm lazily draped around my waist until his hand landed in mine, finger intertwined. I mentally debated whether or not to ask him how his work out was. He was exhausted and I really didn't want to deal with his grumpiness. But he might take it as a joke and laugh. I may love this man but his mood swings are exhausting.