Urgency. | Matthew Healy

c/three. pressure

Fuck you.
Fuck you and your mop.

Fuck you and your experience. And fuck me for giving in.

Oh, yeah... that sounds nice. Fuck me. Of course, that's all I'm thinking about lately. Matty and I doing this, Matty and I doing that...

I had established it to myself before I even stepped on this bus. I'd work on strengthening my pride and I'd also allow myself to have friends with benefits instead of "going by the rules" and forcing myself to be in a boring relationship that I clearly did not want.

I just want his body. That's it, nothing more. I can't have it happen again.

"You can't have what happen again?" Matty steps towards me, fixing his shirt.

My eyes widen. Did I really say that out loud?

"Uh, nothing. I'm just thinking out loud about stupid shit." I nervously smiled.

"Uh, okay? Well, we're going out for some drinks. You down?" He asks, brushing his hair back.

I shrug, pretending not to stare at him. "No, thanks." I'm not gonna drink again, not in front of Matty.

"Fair enough." He pulls a cigarette out of the box in his pocket. "Want one?" He offers.

"I don't smoke cigs." I reply.

He grins at this. "Alright then, offer still stands." He says, and proceeds to light his cigarette.

I watch him smoke and I think to myself: I've never seen something so mesmerizing before.

"You sure you don't want a fag? You're looking needy." He raises an eyebrow and offers me a cigarette, yet again.

I am needy, in fact. How did you know?

I shake my head. "No, thanks. I think I just came up with a lyric, actually." I say, before pushing past him and running towards the bed I share with Matty, grabbing my notebook and scribbling a quick phrase, bending over the bed for support. I take a deep breath and write.

I try to believe
that you're not real
but I end up deceived
with more things to conceal

Your thoughts are more considerate
than the desire in your eyes
leaving me hoping you'd consider it
and move on in disguise.

I read those two verses over and over again, yet they still weren't good enough for me. I was about to rip yet another sheet out of my notebook, before I heard the familiar voice.

"If you keep bending over like that, your spine's gonna have problems." Matty commented, obviously teasing me.

"I can't get this right." I ignored his comment and stood up correctly, shoving the notebook in his chest for him to read.

He reads the page without second thought and I carefully watch how his right eyebrow was slightly raised, his top lip slightly poked out as consequence of him biting his bottom lip, and in his analyzing process, he'd scratch his three day-old facial hair. All of which I found attractive, too much for my own good.

"This is really good, Val." He nods in approval, clutching the notebook between his hands and chest.

I sigh. "It's not good enough." I snatch the notebook from him and tear away the sheet, quickly turning it into a well-built paper ball. Matty stared in awe.

"Valerie-" He started, before reaching to touch my shoulder. His mouth hung open, while he was seemingly interpreting a new set of words to say.

I scoff. "Leave it, Matty. Nothing you can say can convince me that it's good enough. Just let me write in peace." I reply to him, a rude tone showing in my voice.

Why am I mad at him? Ah, yes. He doesn't touch me, and I'm frustrated in every sense of the word.

Matty raised his arms in defeat. "I live to please." He said, while stepping back with a smirk in his face.

I can't help but laugh and grab my notebook again.