In A Heartbeat (M.M)

Chapter One: The Weirdo of Hell's Kitchen

Word count: 7.4k, sorry I got carried away.

Warnings/tags for this chapter: brief mentions of trauma and mental illness, usage of pills, mentions/descriptions of deaths/gore/blood, religious themes, usage of alcoholic substances, violence, and guns like a cherry on top. Exchanged flirting might need a warning, too. ;)

A/N: I'm adding an intro to each chapter to give it an episode-vibe thing, sorry for writing so much but all this had to be included in the first chapter, because things are about to go down Hell.

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He enters through the big ornamented wooden door, strolling down the long aisle between the hardwood oak pews.

The journey to the confessional feels like a lifetime of walking through hell. His heart was weighed with so much and, he couldn't endure it anymore, he had to get this heaviness off his chest.

He entered the booth, sliding the velvety curtain behind him, his hand hanging onto it for a bit. The darkness surrounds him. He usually didn't care, he couldn't see the sombre environing him anyway, but with the ponderousness of his guilt - it was suffocating him like the red curtain that hangs ten inches away from his face.

"Forgive me father, for I have sinned," his husky voice cracks with a sob of guilt the moment he speaks, "I know it's been a while since I last confessed, I'm sorry." His fingers fidget along with each other, feeling like groping for something not visible.

"Matthew... Glad to hear your voice again." Father Lantom tried to lighten the air a little, he felt the lump forming in Matt's throat as he spoke. Matt didn't respond to it; his focus was on the thoughts racing through his head like sport cars on the final lap. "You may speak, you know that, Matthew," he gently responses to his silence.

The knife twists a little deeper, he swallows. "There's this sin I have committed to a while ago," the lump in his throat grows bigger, he feels the world spinning faster, "it's this lady I once heard on the street... She lives across from me, it's been a month since I came across her voice... It was something out of heaven," he recalls the sound of her laughter when it tore through the storm, the sound that made his blood flow in a different direction.

He sighs, a bit of laughter was in his tone, he remembers the day she was talking to Karen, how she laughed lightly at the jokes Karen told, how she sheepishly hangs onto her purse strap as she talked about how excited she was to finally get back to work, how her silky hair strands slipped over her coated shoulder like butter on a hot pan, how she tilts her head to get more anticipated in the conversation.

She felt like something out of this world, and his heart races every time he thinks of her.

"I... I didn't mean to-" he swallows the heavy saliva in his throat, his eyes glistened behind the red blinds, "-eavesdrop her, but... But I couldn't stop myself from doing so," he takes the red tinted glasses off, a tear betrays him and wets his stubble, "she's strangely drawing me in... And I just--... I just couldn't have the strength to fight it back."

He remembers the night after, she got home after her final meeting at the bulletin, how exhausted she was, how she sobbed into her palms, and no one was there to comfort her. But then her elderly neighbor comes over with a casserole dish and tries to cheer her up a little. They talked all night, like they didn't have anyone else to talk to.

He noticed how angelic she was with her neighbor, even though she was the one who was in trouble and is seeking comfort, she cared for the elderly woman's feelings, and tried to comfort her more.