you had always loved music. it was your escape from the real world. sad? listen to music. happy? listen to music. lonely? listen to music.
but your favorite? guitar. it always has been. your mother bought you your first one for your 10th birthday, and you spent every night, morning and weekend working on new songs to perform to your friends and family.
however, rather than playing guitar being your home, it soon became your hell.
it has been a few years since your mother passed away, but it never got any easier. she was your biggest fan, your biggest supporter.
and now you couldn't even set eyes on a guitar.
but the time had come. it was christmas morning, and you and your boyfriend were sat on the floor in front of the tree.
"open mine now!" matt shouted excitedly handing you a rather large gift
"matt.. what is this" you laughed, taking the strangely large object from him as you began to unwrap the paper.
he sat there, eagerly watching you, waiting for your reaction.
once you had successfully ripped all of the paper off, all you could do was stare. it was a guitar, but not just any guitar. the most beautiful guitar you had every laid your eyes on. it was made of dark brown wood, with a forest green trim around the edge, and matching flowers and butterflies that were engraved in the back, and wound up to the front.
"oh matt. its beautiful" you breathed, speechless at the gift in front of you, your eyes watering as you realized this was the first time you had held a guitar since childhood.
"i know you don't play, and i saw this in a shop window and i just couldn't not buy it for you" he spoke, his eyes searching your face "and besides, maybe you could start playing again"
you looked up at him, your eyes glassy, "i love it so much, thankyou matty" you whispered, leaning over and placing your lips on his.
------
it had been a few weeks since christmas, and the guitar matt had bought you had not moved from its corner in your room.
every time you looked at it, your chest was filled with sadness at the memories of your mother, and immediately guilt over the fact that it was a precious gift from your boyfriend, and you still hadn't used it.
"mornin' baby" matt spoke as he walked through your doorway into your room.
"mmm" you groaned in response, having just woken up.
"how about you play some tunes for me today, huh?" matt asked, desperate to see your musical side.
"maybe later" you muttered into your pillow, knowing it was a lie. everyday since christmas matt had asked you to play for him, but you had always come up with an excuse.
"why won't you play for me?" matt pondered, sitting down on the edge of your bed and lifting his hand to play with your hair that was sprawled across your pillow.
you rolled over and looked into his eyes. you could tell he really wanted to know, and wasn't just trying to make conversation.
"it's been a while" you replied, not wanting to tell the whole truth, in fear he would find you pathetic.
"i'm sure you've still got it in you, love" he stated "and anyway, i don't care if you think it's awful, it will probably be the best i've ever heard" he admitted.
"i really do wan't to play for you matty, but it's just that-" you paused, looking out the window, trying not to let your eyes well with tears. "i always used to play for my mama, and i haven't touched a guitar since she died" you admitted, now looking into matt's eyes.
"oh" he replied, not sure of what to say. "i'm sorry, i should have asked before i bought it, i can take it back-"
"no, no baby" you interrupted. "i love it, i do, i will play it soon, i just need time."
"okay my love, take as long as you need" matt smiled, wiping a fallen tear from beneath your eye, and leaving a kiss on your forehead.
--------
it had been a few hours since the boy had confronted you, and it was now one in the morning, and for some reason, you had the strongest urge to pick up that damn guitar and play it.
so that's what you did. you got out from under the covers of your warm bed and padded over to the guitar, picking it up and sitting on the floor.
the wood was cold and felt foreign under your fingers. you traced the butterflies that were engraved on the back, and felt the sharpness of the strings beneath your fingers, gently strumming, the memories flooding your mind. you could feel tears threatening to break free, and you let them fall.
you decided that if you wanted to keep your sanity, you couldn't play the song your fingers were itching to strum. so you decided on something different.
you held the guitar, took a deep breath and began playing the chorus to this town by niall horan.
once you had warmed up your fingers, you began to sing, another thing you hadn't done since you lost your mother.
"if the whole world was watching i'd still dance with you"
"drive highways and byways to be there with you"
"over and over the only truth"
"everything comes back to you"
the tears were falling now, and you couldn't stop them. and even though you weren't singing for your mother, you were singing for your boy, who unbeknownst to you, was stood with his ear pressed to your door, listening to your soft voice.
"you still make me nervous when you walk in the room"
"them butterflies they come alive when i'm next to you"
"over and over the only truth"
"everything comes back to you"
matt was originally just going to listen from a distance, and pretend like he never heard you, until he couldn't hear you singing anymore.
slightly concerned, matt opened the door, and was met with the sight of you with tears streaming down your face, your eyes red and puffy.
"oh baby" matt breathed, rushing over to you and wrapping you in his arms as you cried into his shoulder. "you sounded amazing"
"you heard me?" you asked, speaking into his t-shirt
"i may or may not have been eavesdropping" matt giggled, making you laugh in return.
matt pulled away from the hug, his eyes scanning your face, immediately wiping your tears away. "you're amazing, you know that?" he asked.
"you think so?" you questioned
"i know so" he replied, smiling. "now lets get you into bed" he continued, and he lifted you up bridal style, and laid you into your soft sheets, climbing in shortly afterwards.
"i meant what i was singing, you know" you admitted, as you rested your head on matthew's chest
"you still get butterflies/" he asked, amazed at how he still had that affect on you.
"always" you replied, smiling, as you drifted off into a peaceful sleep.
