infatuation // m.h

3

"What are we doing today?" I asked, not wanting to open my eyes and face the morning light.
"Whatever you want." Matty said, covering my eyes with his hand. I was grateful for the darkness.
"Thank you." I mumbled. His hands were always cold in the morning.
"So what do you want to do, beautiful?" He asked, kissing my cheek. His kisses trailed down my neck and over my shoulders.
I shrugged, rolling over on top of him. I rested my head on his chest, hearing the slow thrum of his heartbeat under his skin. His arms wrapped around mine. I traced the lines of his tattoo with my finger. I could feel him smiling. I could feel him breathing. Easy. Measured. Simple. Beautiful.
"You're stunning, you know that?" Matty said quietly, tracing my jaw with his finger. His voice sounded so gentle and quiet and soft.
"I love you." I said with a lazy morning grin.
He hooked his fingers under my chin and pulled me up towards him, our lips meeting.

This feeling, complete and utter bliss, was perfect. I loved how safe and warm I felt with Matty. We broke apart and lied with each other for a few minutes. I loved how we could sit in silence together without it being awkward. I loved how we could sit and write or draw or paint side by side without saying a word, and it felt natural. Everything feels easy with Matty. Like everything just fits.
He wasn't perfect, he was far from flawless. He drank a lot and was high half of the time and missed his family and romanticised things too much but it didn't matter. I was the same. It scared me sometimes, how much I loved him. It scared me that everything could change in a second, that he could leave me.
"Hey. Anyone home?" Matty laughed, seeing I was over thinking.
I laughed. "I'm okay." I said.
"What are you thinking about?" He asked. He always asked this, and it was how he showed he cared.
"Honestly?" I asked.
Matty rolled his eyes. "No, tell me a lie." He said sarcastically.
"I was thinking about how easily things can change. How easily my entire world could shatter. I could die, you could die. You could leave me. That's scary."
"It's too early for thoughts this deep. I'm not leaving you, and you're not leaving me." Matty said with a smirk, getting up into a sitting position. He rubbed his stubble and blinked the sleep out of his eyes. He looked so tired and his eyes were sad but I loved him anyway.
"I love you." I said, wrapping my arms around his chest and brushing my lips over his shoulder.
"I need a smoke." I said more to myself than anyone else, leaning over to grab the packet from the bedside table. My hands shook as I tried to light the cigarette. Matty grabbed my hands and steadied them. I smiled. The cig caught fire and I inhaled, imagining the wisps of smoke flowing into my lungs. I exhaled the smoke and blew into Matty's face, he breathed in with a hazy smile.
"Come on, let's go out for breakfast." He said, grabbing my hand with a smile.

We settled into our usual spot, a little corner of the cafe with a couch that for both of us perfectly.
We ordered a plate of pancakes to share and our cups of coffee. Matty pulled out his journal, the black leather one that he used for scraps and pieces of songs, poems, lyrics. His catch-all book for when he's stuck for a line in a song. Sometimes he'll let me page through the small black book and I'm always gob smacked. His writing - beautiful, intelligent, articulate. The way his words flow from his pen to the paper so effortlessly. I wrote things too, mostly about Matty, but I refused to share anything with anyone. Not even Matty.

We ate and talked and laughed and kissed and hugged and tripped over each other's sentences.
I loved him so much that it scared me sometimes.

Matty pulled out his journal, and started to scrawl lines in it, his messy and rushed handwriting swooping all over the pages. "Before I forget." He always says.

I watched quietly over his shoulder. He could feel me watching him and he smirked.
"Can you read it to me?" I said as I laid down on the couch, my head in his lap. He rolled his eyes and smirked, flicking through the pages of his book to find something to read. He took a breath, leaned down to kiss my forehead, then began to read:
"I watch her sleep sometimes. (I always wake up first.) She lays in the cold sheets, her hair sprawled over her pillow. Goosebumps cover her arms. Her face is soft, simple. She has such a beautiful mind - I want to discover all of it. She worries too much and can't go a day without a cigarette but it doesn't matter. I love her regardless. She's intoxicating, I'm infatuated."
"I...wow. Wow, Matty. That's beautiful." I breathed.
Matty smiled. "You're beautiful."

"Can we go outside? I need a-" I started to say.
"Smoke." Matty cut me off. I smiled. He knew me too well.