butterflies ઇଓ matt sturniolo imagines

𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳'𝘴 𝘦𝘷𝘦

ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅ઇଓ

     you had an aversion to parties, but matt promised you would have fun. and you trusted matt.

it's been a few hours, and you were growing unbelievably overstimulated. you felt like a fried keyboard, twitching and zapping and short-circuiting with every bass-boosted song and person knocking into your shoulders and sides. you sought refuge in the kitchen, away from the main parts of the party, where matt and his friends were taking advantage of the dance floor.
the kitchen was empty, and a complete mess; there were solo cups crumpled up and strewn across the counters and floor, and there was an unidentifiable puddle every few feet. the countertops were sticky and everything smelled like sugar and rubbing alcohol. you just listened to the distant beat of the music, feeling the bass waves rumbling through the floor, and leaned against the kitchen sink with a cup of lukewarm water. you took deep breaths, and you wished matt was with you.

a fluffy head of chocolate hair peered around the kitchen doorframe, revealing just the guy you wanted to see. speaking of the devil, you thought, watching him intently as he smiled and rounded the corner. his face was slick with glittery sweat, and he was more than out of breath.

     "i was wondering where you went!" matt exclaimed, still in yelling-mode. when you winced slightly, he chuckled. "sorry. forgot it's quiet in here."

"it's okay."

matt hobbled over to the sink and grabbed a wad of paper towels, patting down his face and neck. he hated to sweat, you remember him telling you so. you held out your cup of water, and he took it gratefully, chugging the whole thing in one shot. he only took a moment to pause when he saw the way your eyes darted around, like you were panicked.

     "hey, what's the matter?"

     "nothing! i'm okay!" you forced a smile, and it felt tight on your face. nobody is worse at lying than you are, and nobody is better at seeing right through you than matt.

     "is it the party?" matt prodded. he leaned against the counter adjacent to you. the sleeves of his black button-down were rolled and shoved up, leaving his forearms exposed, and when he crossed them across his chest, you felt your throat tighten up.

     "no, i-"

     "don't lie to me, love," matt cut you off, "you know i can tell when you're bullshitting me."

     you turned around and filled your cup with more water, trying to decide if you were really willing to tell matt the party was too much for you. he was having so much fun, and you didn't want to be the reason he had to stop; you watched him from the corner of the living room earlier, how he danced with his arms flailing and his smile bright as the sun. he was always that way- even when he was anxious, he seemed so carefree, so happy, blazing with light. you wished you were more like that sometimes.

     matt pushed off the counter and came closer, reaching out to grab either side of the sink behind you and leaving you with nowhere to go. you pressed into the cold ceramic, feeling trapped and yet not really feeling the urge to break out.

     "tell me what's up, come on," matt leaned in closer, the cage of his arms pinning you to the sink and his eyes feigning innocence, "please?"

     you shuddered a bit, feeling a blinding heat creep up the back of your neck like spiders. "i-i'm just a little rattled, i guess,"

     "rattled?"

     "overstimulated." you corrected yourself. "it's just really loud, and hot, and there's so many people... you know how i get."