Storm // Matty Healy ♣ The 1975

12. clammy

My hands were clammy.

We were walking to the train station the next morning, and all I could think about was how much of a stupid decision I had made.

My body was warm and prickling with embarrassment. My cheeks and neck had it the worst.

"How long until we, um, get to the station?" I asked Matty under my breath. I re-adjusted the overnight bag I was carrying. I didn't need much, we were only staying for the weekend, after all...

The thick heels on my black boots clicked on the pavement beneath me. I didn't know how it was even possible for me to hear through the hustle and bustle of London.

Matty shrugged.

"About ten minutes," He said, right at that moment, a middle aged couple stopped abruptly in front of us. Matty rolled his eyes and I laughed a little. "In theory." He added on, making me smile at him a little and squeeze his hand in mine.

"Your hands are clammy." He noted. I sighed a little.

"I know." I mumbled.

"Nervous?" He asked.

"Not really." I lied.

"Do you think your dad will like me?" He asked suddenly, making me realise for once that I wasn't the only one who was nervous.

"Of course." I lied again.

--

It took us all of twenty five minutes to get to the station, partially because I kept stopping every time I felt lightheaded, which was nearly every two minutes.

We walked up onto the platform just in time. Five minutes before our train was due to leave.

"You okay?" I asked as I watched Matty nervously set foot onto the train. He nodded his head.

"Yeah, I'm good. You?"

I told him that I didn't know, because I didn't.

When we sat down, I knew he wasn't okay because his legs were shaking so much that he kept hitting his knees on the table.

I outstretched my arm and secured my hand around one of his kneecaps.

The train smelled disgusting, like vomit and alcohol. Its smell pushed into my nose and began making me feel even more uneasy. Matty kissed the top of my head.

"It'll be okay." He told me, and for some reason, I trusted him when he said it, more than myself when I had said it about a hundred times that day alone.