ashes [m.h.] (Completed)

Chapter 5

His gaze doesn't  falter as I stop my movements. I'm quickly paralyzed, before regaining my senses. I grab Mia's arm and pull her back into the kitchen.

"Who is that guy?!" I question.

"What? Who? What guy??"

"That guy that sits behind us in music history" I try to whisper "dark curly hair, nearly always dressed in black.."

"Matty?"

"Thats his name?"

"Yea, Matthew Healy, but he's called Matty" she explains. "Why, what's going on?"

"Nothing I just wanted to know" I lie.

I push through people and head back to the 'dance floor'. I don't want to think anymore. I want to go back to my euphoric state from before. I swing my body forcefully, hoping to feel the same as before. Moving my hips round and round, I try harder.

I feel a body press against my back, and large hands wrap around my waist. My body freezes at the intrusion, but the hands move my hips for me. Their grip is tight, causing a bit of pain. I try to wiggle away but they have other plans. I'm flung around to face the large person. He pulls me against his chest with a hard thud. I'm flooded with the overwhelming scent of hard alcohol. His hand grabs my cheeks and he forcefully crashes his lips to mine. His mouth sloppily engulfs mine as I try to pull away. His strength holds me in place. I ball my hands into fists and beat at his chest, but he doesn't budge. My knee finds its way to the middle of his legs, and with all the strength I have, I connect it with his sensitive area. He falls to the floor immediately and I regain my control. All I can think to do is run, and get out of here.

I make my way down the hallway as quickly as I can. I turn to the first door i reach and yank at the knob, but it fails to open. I race to the next. Thank god, it's open. I slip in and slam it shut. My hand slides around the wall, struggling to find the light switch. My fingers quickly locate the switch and light floods the room. Spotting the bath and toilet I realize I'm in the bathroom.

I look at myself in the mirror. My eyes are big and watery, with my lipstick smeared over my mouth and chin from the stranger's assault. I can't bear to look anymore. I let myself down onto the floor with a thud. Tears brim my eyes and threaten to fall. They don't waste any time, starting to stream down my face, taking my makeup with them. My breathing becomes shallow and I let my emotions take over. I begin to sob loudly.

I'm beyond disappointed in myself. I should never have came here. I shouldn't have drank either. God, if I hadn't been stupid and drunk, none of this would've happened. I bring my knees to my chest and bury my face, letting the event replay in my head. More and more tears escape, and I can't begin to imagine what my makeup looks like.

Sounds of the door opening alarm my brain, but I don't bother looking up. It's most likely another drunk person looking for a place to puke. Hopefully they'll see me and leave. I hear the door close and let another sob out. Shuffling noises sound, and I feel a presense sit next to me. Arms wrap around my back and attempt to pull me in. I jump back, not wanting a repeat of earlier.

"It's okay" a voice whispers.

They gently pull me closer and I oblige. I must be crazy to trust this person. Burying my face into their chest, I let the cries return. I know I'm shaking. Warm hands rub up and down my back, helping to soothe my shaking body. I can hear their heartbeat pounding against my ear. The scent of cologne drowns my senses. I'm completely lost in this comforting stranger. My arms fling around the unknown torso and I hug them tight. He brings his fingers to my hair, gently brushing it. I begin to calm down.

Minutes of silence pass and I'm still in the stranger's arms. My sobbing has ceased and I feel safe. Without thinking, I pull back. My eyes look up to identify the stanger. His eyes are closed and his breathing is light. I search the face and it hits me; he's no stranger.

"Matty" I say to myself.

His eyes snap open and immediately finds my face.

"Are you okay?" He says, worry clear in his tone.

I shuffle back, away from him. His eyes fill with concern.

"Maggie" he breathes, "Are you okay?"

I nod my head quietly.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asks softly.

I look down at my hands, and shake my head no.

"It's okay I understand. Sometimes when I get anx- " he stops and run his hands through his hair. "do you want me to take you home?"

I nod.

"You can talk to me y'know" he sounds so caring. How can he possibly care, he doesn't know me.

"Okay" I whisper

He lifts himself off the floor and stands above me. He holds a hand out and looks down at me waiting. I place mine in his and am quickly lifted to my feet. He opens the door and gives the the well known 'ladies first' signal. I hesitate, and his face is full of understanding sympathy. Why is he being this way? He must want something from me. Was seeing my bra not enough for him? Disgusting.

I push myself out the door and step back, letting him take the lead. He makes his way down the hallway, cutting through the drunk bodies. His head snaps back every 15 seconds to ensure I'm still with him. We reach the door and he follows me out.

"My car is this way.." He mumbles, and begins walking.

I try to keep a distance between us. He seems to notice, and begins to slow his pace. I walk even slower. I can't help my eyes raking up and down his body. His black jeans cling to his legs, and his shirt does the same. I'm caught in the way his muscles move as he walks. He seems so tense, I can't help wondering why. His hand rakes through his curls slowly, making me melt. What? Why am I thinking this way? I must be really buzzed.

Before I know it, I'm crashing into a hard wall- again. He catches me quickly, his large hands gripping my arms.

"You've got to stop doing that" he chuckles, "My car is here"

I'm released from his hold, and he steps closer to the car. He opens the passenger door, and waits. I look to him and he nods. I climb into the car and he shuts the door. He pads over to the driver's side and hops in. Reaching into his back pocket he shuffles for his keys, jingling them as he finds them. I'm dreading the ride with him, and pray it goes quickly. With that, I sigh to myself- here goes nothing.