Wasted Youth // Matty Healy ♣ The 1975

23~

When Matty turned up at my door with a pot of knock off Ben and Jerry's ice cream in one hand and a bouquet of yellow, white and orange carnations wrapped far too fancily to be from Tesco Extra in the other, making me wonder what flower shops were actually open at that time, I knew I was screwed.

"Jules..." He said as I gawked at him standing there, I could just about make out his facial expressions thanks to the yellow streetlights up above us.

I didn't bother pointing out that he had never called me Jules before, I just stepped aside and let him in.

"Sorry for this." I mumbled awkwardly.

"'S not a problem. I- um, I got you these." He said, nodding his head towards the ice cream and the flowers his hands. If I hadn't been so upset, my knees would have probably gone weak.

"Thanks." I said, gripping his wrist tightly as I trudged over to shut and lock the door behind him. He didn't even joke about me locking the door, probably because he knew he wouldn't be leaving after putting up with me crying over a bowl of ice cream for five minutes.

I led him into the kitchen where I quickly put the flowers in a vase that I filled with water from the tap, then I grabbed a couple of spoons from the cutlery drawer and smiled softly at Matty through the darkness of the kitchen.

"Where's Oscar?" Matty asked me.

"Living room. He's asleep on the floor, I tripped over him when I went to answer the door," I laughed. "That rhymed. Maybe I should be in a band, I could probably write amazing songs." I joked. Matty grinned at me as I grabbed his hand and walked with him into the living room, still only lit by the flickering TV. I didn't even know what I had been watching, some junky late night talk show hosted by a couple of men in tacky coloured suits and a girl who looked considerably younger than them, who was wearing a blue dress that matched one of the guys' ties.

I tripped over Oscar again on my way into the room and swore under my breath, bending down to stroke the top of his head, behind his floppy ears.

"Sorry." I whispered to him, before climbing over the pile of teddy bears that Olivia had brought down from her room over the course of the night, she had sensed something was off and wouldn't stop piling her toys on the floor, thinking it would make me feel better. It was a sweet thought, but the messiness soon made me feel even worse.

­"Sorry, it's a shithole, I know." I whispered to Matty now, apologies seemed to be flowing out of my mouth that night.

"It's fine. My place is worse." He shugged. We both sat down on the sofa and he took the lid of the ice cream pot off and set it down on the coffee table between us and the telly.

I dipped my spoon into it first, taking a sizeable amount of the already half melted ice cream.

We didn't talk at first, we just ate and watched the TV, trying to avoid any possible conversation.

"Did he treat you well when you were together?" He suddenly asked after swallowing his mouthful of ice cream.

I nodded as I dug my spoon into the pot that we had nearly finished.

"Yeah." I said with certainty.

"Did he treat you the way you wanted to be treated?" He asked. I narrowed my eyes, pressing the tip of the spoon to my mouth, chocolate brownie flavour ice cream seeping onto my chapped lips.

"No." I said eventually.

"No? Why not?" It didn't sound like he was quizzing me, maybe if I was someone else, or in a different state of mind, maybe I would have thought he was. I mean, I felt stupid when I realised the only reason I didn't feel like he was was because his hand was resting on the small of my back. I felt so, so shallow.

"Because I'm stupid and I think I want something before realising I-" I trailed off. All I could think about was his hands and all I could see was him, his face next to me, lit up artificially by the telly, and Oscar, of course, who now had Olivia's favourite t-rex in his mouth.

I jumped up awkwardly and pulled it out of his mouth.

"Bad dog." I said half-heartedly, as I chucked it down on the sofa and sat down next to Matty again.

"Before realising you what?" He asked me, I sighed.

"I dunno. Before realising that I want something else." I mumbled, feeling stupid and hoping that he couldn't see the colour in my cheeks as well as I could see the colour of his eyes.

Jesus Christ. I thought, wondering when I became such a mushy person.

His eyes were hazel.

His hair was curly and dark, unless he had decided to put gel in in that day, in which case it would be straight and sticky.

His existence was rash.

His hands were small, and his fingertips were rough.

That was it.

But then he leaned forwards and gently pulled me towards him by my chin, and he kissed me.

He kissed me and suddenly his eyes were the night sky.

He kissed me and his hair was a wild jungle tangling around my fingers.

He kissed me and his existence was suddenly third on the list of people's existences that mattered to me more than my own. Olivia, my mum, and him.

He kissed me and his hands were the only ones I wanted on my skin ever again.

He kissed me and I knew that something would go wrong.

His lips were more chapped than mine, putting me slightly at ease.

"I think," He said as we separated. "I think you're a dream." He told me.

His fingers were dipped into the waistband of my skirt and I felt that weird kind of happy-sick you feel when you get really nervous.

Matty buried his face in my neck and began gnawing gently on my skin, I moaned his name quietly, hating myself afterwards. I must have sounded so desperate.

My cheeks were burning, in fact, my entire body felt like it was on fire

"Matty..." I whimpered again as his hand crept up the inside of my thighs.

"Do you want me to carry you upstairs?" He asked into my skin. I nodded quickly.

"Yes please." I mumbled breathlessly.

So he did.

--

i hope you enjoyed this!!

i was just wondering what you all picture julie to look like?