intoxicated // your love // (m.h)

// 5 //

"Oh God." the woman breathed out. Matty rolled over to beside her. Her brown hair thick and wet against her forehead.

Just another night. Matty thought. He was lying with this woman by the side, whom he did not know her name. Like always, he felt proud. But there was something that was bothering him which he couldn't quite put a finger to. It was just there.

Patiently he waited for the woman to fall asleep so he could leave the party without being noticed. Like he always did. And as the time came, the woman drifted away and Matty took his chance to get out of there. He was only looking for pleasure, nothing else. The one who thought he wanted anything different must have been mentally ill while saying that. Matty was nothing but a pleasure-seeking young man with no good intentions.

He went down the stairs to the party downstairs, feeling a slight deja vú. He couldn't tell if it was one of the many nights he has done this or if it was just reminding him of that special night with Sheryl.

He haven't seen or spoken to Sheryl in about three days now, but he isn't worrying about her. She's just working. Because unlike him, she has a job and she has the patience of working. To save enough money to pay for her collage. When Matty thought about it, he was just some trash that had nothing good to come with for Sheryl. But he wanted to be good for her, because she was different. Not only was she the first girl he actually learned to know after sleeping with, but she was different in who she was. Sheryl was open minded and spoke whatever she felt was right, but if she happens to reveal too much she shuts down and puts up a guard. A guard Matty would love to fight down.

As he elbowed his way through the crowd of drinking people he noticed someone sitting in a couch in the living room of the party-house. The man was about his age, tall -even though he sat down- his hair was almost a dirty yellowish blonde color and his skin was pale He was more muscular than Matty.

"Matty?!" the man spoke up, shouting over the music. He was holding a bottle with beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other. Obviously intoxicated. "Hey, it's Matty! My man!" he said to one of the guys sitting next to him. He was also british.

Matty sat down next to him when the man had made some space for him to fit in. And since Matty was pretty skinny there was no problem. He puffed his cigarette while he smiled at Matty. And Matty who had just reunited with an old friend smiled widely.

"George, mate. How are you doing?"

Surprisingly they haven't seen each other since a year back and in collage they were best buddies.

"Nah, for me things are okay." he said, leaning in to Matty and kissing his cheek. "It's been a long time, mate, what are you doing here again?"

Matty who was comfortable in the attendance of his old friend leaned back in the couch.

"Searching for something new. A muse? I don't know. I guess England became a little too normal for me. But I would love to wonder why you are here?" he answered.

And George smiled, loving the question he'd just been asked, or maybe not. "Actually, I've been looking for you." he said.

"Really?" Matty answered.

"Really." George winked.

"How come?"

And then the smile on George face faded, he looked down at his beer and then brought it to his lips. "Let's go outside, I can't even hear my own thoughts in here." and both the men rose and followed one another outside.

The wind was chilly outside, but the music was muffled by the thick walls of the house and so this was a better place to talk at, they decided. George, who was taller than Matty, was now standing before him with a such a facial expression you could've just written all over George's face: pain.

"George what's going on?"

"Something is wrong with Ross." he said, his face not moving a muscle.

And as soon as Matty heard about this he felt his stomach cringe. Ross MacDonald, his old best friend.

"What do you mean something is wrong? George!" Matty was almost freaking out. He knows Ross was bitten by cancer by far a while ago, he just hoped for the best when he left England that the tumor would not come back. He just had to hope that he was right.

And you could almost see the tears that was filling George's eyes, but it was too dark outside. Matty knew exactly what was going on now. He was not right.

"It's back, Matty. It's back!" George said, speaking louder for every word. "You have to come with me! Come with me to Manchester! Please." he begged.

Matty did not understand why he was pleading, of course he will. "Are you shitting me? Of course I'll come."

He wrapped his arms around Matty and pulled him into a tight hug, his tall body leaning over Matty's. He cried against his shoulders. This was painful for them both, Matty was just not the guy that cries. But he wasn't sure if George was either.

-

The wheels of their suitcases rolled against the cold asphalt. Matty breathed in the smell of his old home and felt a sweep of nostalgia. The winter coated trees, almost freezing in the cold, was hovering over them. And the simple brick houses exactly lined out on the streets were covering up the grey sky that was threatening to rain. Who would have known returning to your old town could be so depressive that even the sky will cry for you?

They had spoken about it on the plane, about Ross, but still Matty wasn't ready to face him. One of his best friends have been teared down by a sickness, one that they hoped could be cured. But the odds were small. Fingers crossed.

At the end of the street they came to a identical house as all the others but this one sent out vague vibes of sadness. George carefully opened the door and lead them both in. In the hall they were greeted by a man, Adam. He was also one of their closest friends. Matty regret that he ever left. Seeing them together again brought him back to the time when things were okay and Matty was alive. But he hadn't faced Ross yet, he wanted to but was he ready? While exchanging hellos and manly hugs all three of them went to the back of the hall in to a small room and by the edge of that room, right under a window was a bed placed. And a man placed in the bed.

Ross was tied with those tubes sticking out of his arms. He was clothed with a lot of blankets to keep him warm, they had tried to bring as much heat as possible into the room but it was still cold. Apparently, Adam had explained, they tried to move Ross's bed away from the window but he had insisted that he loved the view of the shitty playground that they all used to play on when they were younger.

"Matty?" Ross's voice was weak. Matty hadn't gotten a straight look at his friend but he was now, what he saw was not terrifying, which he was grateful for. He was pale, he had always been but this was different pale, his cheeks were no longer blushing. His hair had not fallen off but it was surely thinner.

Matty walked to sit down on the bed next to him and when he did he saw the light being brought back only slightly into Ross's eyes.

"Hey, mate. How are you doing?" Matty wasn't the best to handle these sort of situations but he did as best as he could. And Ross was thankful.

"I'm doing fine, the cancer has spread to my shoulder now so. I keep going to these doctor appointments and shit but..." he lowered his voice and gestured for Matty to come closer. "I don't think it works." his breath warm against Matty's ear, Matty could feel the smell of sickness from his friend. He knew why he whispered this, it was obvious Adam was having a hard time, probably the hardest, and he was just not ready to tell him yet.

"You'll be alright, I'll show you that."

a//n

ew the ending sucked, im such a cruel person did u know? god

im sorry for upsetting u but read the next chapter to find out more loves xx