Pretty Kind of Dirty Face {Matty Healy}

19 // Antichrist

{how can I relate to somebody who doesn't speak?}

My heart was racing even before Matty entered the bathroom, but seeing him in the doorway made me feel like I was going to faint. I wanted to cling to Cecily like a wounded animal, in all honesty. I was afraid that if I lost contact with her I would lose all hope of sanity.

Nevertheless, Matty stepped through the threshold into the bathroom and just when I thought Cecily would give me up, throwing me into the lions' den, her grip tightened. She held on to me like I wanted to hold onto her. She clung to me tightly, protecting me from the horrors that awaited with Matty in front of me.

"Hey El," he said softly as he slowly walked closer, "can I talk to you for a second?"

Cecily jumped in where I normally would have, if I were in the right mindset. "Don't call her El," she hissed back. "And no, you cannot talk to her. Not now, not ever."

"Cec," I whimpered, trying to sit up a little on my own.

"No," she said firmly before I could even continue my feeble sentence. "No Ellie, I'm not letting this happen again; I'm not letting this get worse." Then, she turned her attention to Matty. "You broke her!" she cried, her voice cracking. "She was fine before you and then you came along and you fucking broke her! She can barely function now because of what you did! I know you think you love her but if you really did, this wouldn't have happened. She needs someone who cares about her, not this off and on whenever you feel like it shit! I was trying to be nice and throw a fun party. Thanks for ruining my night and Ellie's entire fucking life. You can leave."

There was silence. Matty didn't seem to know what to think, let alone what to say. I sat up, pushing myself away from Cecily. I finally got a full-on look at Matty. He had crouched down on the tile floor next to Cecily, probably when he said that he wanted to talk to me before. His face had dropped when she started yelling at him, there was no doubt in that. His eyes sparkled with budding tears.

"Cec," I said again, this time a little bit stronger, "please don't. Everything that you said is true, but please don't yell at him for it in front of me."

She reached over and held my hand. "I'm sorry."

Matty cut in, his voice quiet and hoarse, "Cecily, can I please have a moment alone with Eloise? Just five minutes and then I'm gone, I promise."

She looked warily from Matty to me. I raised my eyebrows at her, as if to give her the cue that it was all in her hands. I desperately wanted to be alone with Matty, but a part of me knew that I was in this state because of him and just "one more line" or "one more shot" was never a good idea for the recovering addict.

Cecily sighed heavily. "Fine," she said, letting go of all contact with me and standing up, "but only five minutes. I'm timing you and I will come and drag you out of my house if you aren't out by then."

As she walked out, she pulled the door shut behind her, but left it open a crack so it didn't latch. Maybe she wanted to give me a quick getaway, or maybe she wanted it to be quicker for her to come in and drag Matty out when it came time for him to leave. Either way, I didn't mind. No matter how unsafe I felt in the moment, having something as simple as an open door made all the difference in the world.

Matty slid over to be closer to me, then, without a word, he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into him. I lost it. Not only did I begin crying again, but the hyperventilation and shaking were back before I knew it. And there I was, having my second breakdown of the night. Matty rocked me back and forth in his arms, not bothering to say anything but just keeping me company.

In a lull in my sobbing, he finally whispered into my ear, "Eloise, I am so fucking sorry."

I wanted to believe him, truly I did. But I had dreamt of hearing those words for weeks, imagined how they would sound as they touched my ears, considered what I would say in return. And it just seemed all too rehearsed to me. I wanted to believe that he was sorry, but I had imagined it all too many times for me to actually believe it could be real. So instead of doing any of the things that I had imagined, I just stayed quiet.