infatuation // m.h

4

(A/N: Idk what the gif is from but I feel like it suits this chapter x)

Matty and I drove around all day. The breeze was warm and his hands were soft. The light in the car made everything feel hazy and golden, shimmering in front of my face like a mirage. We drove for hours, down past beaches and shops and old deserted fields. My hair blew in the wind and I thought that this was what love felt like - breeze, easy. Simple and fun and careless.

Matty kept his hand on my thigh and drove. I snapped a picture of him, his face soft and smiling and his curls sprawled out in the breeze. He grinned and I leaned over to kiss his cheek. I put the picture on the dashboard and closed my eyes, leaning back into the leather seat.

"Hey," Matty said, nudging my shoulder "Wake up, babe."
I yawned sleepily, smiling at him. He grinned and came around to open my door for me. It was little things like that that made me fall in love with him more.
I looked around. We were in the middle of an empty field, with nothing but a hot asphalted road beside it. Matty went to the boot of the car and pulled out a picnic blanket. He laid it out on the dried out grass, before laying on it himself. He gestured for me to join him. I grinned and laid down next to him, resting my head on his chest. He took my hair out of its bun and played with strands of it, spreading it over the blanket.
We laid like that for a little while, baking in the sun.
Matty pulled a spliff he'd rolled out and we passed it back and forth, inhaling that smoke and blowing out smoke rings, floating above us and then disappearing into the clouds dragging on above us.
I could feel myself relaxing, my fingers tingled and my head felt hazy.

"You know, I used to hate Sundays." I said slowly.
"Why?" Matty asked, frowning a little bit.
"I used to feel miserable on Sundays. Sundays were endings. Back to boredom. Back to day-to-day. The beginnings are fine - like the mornings - making pancakes and sleeping in, you know? Sunday afternoons, in my head, sound nice. Like playing music with friends over in someone's backyard. But on Sundays I always ended up feeling like I was suffocating, mellow, a sinking feeling in my stomach." I said, shielding my eyes from the sun, beating down overhead.
"And now?" Matty asked.
"Now Sundays are what I imagined. What I wanted. Nice. Hazy. Lazy. Warm. Relaxed." I said.
Matty grinned at me, propping himself up on his elbows. I smiled and rolled over so I was sitting on top of him, my knees either side of his waist. I grabbed his face in both of my hands and kissed him. I could feel him smiling under my lips.
"I'm so glad you're mine." He said.
I couldn't stop the smile on my face.

Comfort. Simplicity. Tenderness. Warm skin in sunlight. Cool hands. Tangled hair. Breeze rustling through trees. Soft music.
I don't hate Sundays any more. Sundays spent with Matty are hazy-eyed bliss.
I wanted to live like this forever.