this is how it starts || m.h

13) not in love

TRIGGER WARNING - MENTIONS OF SELF HARM SCARS

When I opened my eyes, I was surprised to see that Matty was still lying beside me, his eyes shut and his mouth partially open as he slept. He looked so peaceful like this, a stark contrast to how he was once he got up on stage.

I almost couldn't believe that he was really here, in front of me, in my bed. It was kind of surreal, to be honest.

"You seem to have a bit of a staring problem, you know." Matty suddenly mumbled, his eyes opening the tiniest bit as he smiled.

"Sorry."

"I'm telling you now, if you tell me you're in love with me or something, I'm leaving you here."

"Don't worry, I'm definitely not in love with you, not even remotely in love." I argued, sitting up to check the time. It was 6AM. "Right, well I think I should get ready."

"What time is it?"

"Six."

"We've got time." He grumbled, his arms snaking around my waist, pulling me back into bed with him.

I put my hands against his chest, preventing him from coming any closer to me. "I have morning breath." I excused, only earning a quiet chuckle from him.

"I don't care."

"Matty, come on." I mumbled as his lips brushed mine. "We can't risk being late, and I need to be up before Addie gets back."

"Give me five minutes?" He asked, pouting at me. "Please?"

"Fine." I finally sighed, unable to wipe the smile off my face as he began trailing his lips down my throat. "But if we're late, it's your fault."

"That's fair." He said quietly, as he pushed the material of my jumper up my body, his lips dragging across my stomach.

But once he reached the area just above my waistband, he stopped, looking up at me.

"What's this?" He asked softly, his fingers skating over the faint scarring on my stomach.

I took a short breath before answering him, the memory of my high school years seeping into my mind. "I was going through some shit a few years back. This was how I coped."

He gave me a brief nod in response, his lips forming a line as he stared at me. But then he leaned back down and pressed his lips to my stomach, kissing over the scars.

And as I watched him gently press his mouth to the scarred skin, I couldn't help but smile, emotion rising in my chest from the act.

I was definitely not in love with him. Not even close. But somehow he'd just made me feel like the most loved person in the world.

I could already predict how this would end, considering my heart was already threatening to drown in him. I had known him for all but three days, and I was already done for.