Matty Healy Imagines

Taking Care

Word Count: 769
Summary: "Can we get some sweet Matty bath time stuff? He's sad about everything and his girl runs him a bath and takes care of him?"

"The world...the world is just so fucked."

You sighed as Matty fussed with his curls. Bad news had been all over the media all day, and after even just a brief scroll through his phone, Matty was down. He was down about it all, about all the fighting and the anger and heartache. You could see it in his face. His eyes, usually bright with wonder, looked sullen and sunken in, a speck of anger tinging them. His hands, usually so soft and comforting, were clenched tight enough on the counter to turn his knuckles white. His lips, usually turned up or bitten in concentration were snarling, disgusted and fraught with trouble. It was not the Matty you were used to. It was a darker Matty, a hopeless Matty. A Matty who was losing grasp of his world and in need of help remembering its worth and goodness, like many others also faced with the pain. Gentle, you reached out and caressed his arm.

"Hey...hey, it'll be okay."

"Doesn't seem like it," he grumbled to himself, sounding ages older than he had moments before. You frowned at him, unhappy for him and from seeing him this way. Going up to him, you wrapped your arms around his waist and hugged him from behind. You felt him relax a bit into you, a hand leaving the counter to rub at your arms. However, he was not fully relaxed. He needed more. That was when the perfect thought hit you: a bath.

"Do you want me to run a bath for you?"

"A bath?"

"Yeah," you replied softly, kissing his shoulder. "I'll get some incense going, maybe a few candles? Whatever you want."

Sighing, Matty turned around so that he faced you and kissed your forehead. "That sounds wonderful."

"Follow me then, love."

Thus, your plan came to action. Matty trailing behind you with his hand in yours, you brought him over to his bedroom. Sitting him on the bed, you left him to go over to the bathroom, the bright pink room you originally thought gaudy but now loved as so incredibly, inherently reminiscent of your boyfriend. You started running the water and let the steam fill the air. After digging around elsewhere, you found some incense and moved to light it, the soothing smell dispersing wonderfully. That was when you decided to grab Matty from the bed.

Guiding him, you instructed him to stand in front of the tub, still filling up behind him. He watched as you went and delicately took off each article of clothing on him, folding it and setting it on the toilet seat. You hurried back and, after shutting off the water, took his hand. Matty eased himself into the water, the bubbles you poured surrounding him comfortably. You watched his stress melt away with each inch he slid down, until finally his shoulders fell back and he let out a glorious sigh. It brought a smile out of you.

"Feel good?"

"Mmmm."

"Want me to help wash your hair?"

"That would be lovely."

"Alrighty then."

Grabbing a cup sitting on his ledge, you got a good amount of water inside it and then gently poured it through his black curls. Matty let out a lovely hum at the feeling, the warmth trickling through and soothing his nerves. You reached and got a good amount of shampoo for him. Lathering it through his curls was your favorite. His eyes squinted shut, and little happy noises slipped through his lips. His curls were so soft too, little ringlets that fell flat on his face once lathered and heavy. You loved all of it, especially being the cause of it. Pouring the water to rinse them out, you smiled.

"See love? All it took was a little love to cheer you up."

"I see."

"That's what it's always good to turn to when you are sad or when the world makes you hurt," you whispered, rinsing his hair more. "Love. The Beatles had a whole song about it."

Matty smiled. "You're ridiculous."

"I'm right."

"Well, Miss Right, care to make my night even better by joining me? To make me feel better, of course," he added with a pout. You giggled, splashing some water at him.

"I suppose I could join."

"Yes."

"Promise me one thing, though."

"I promise I'll not let things get me too down."

"No," you said with a grin, booping his nose, "promise you'll wash my hair, too?"

"Screw it, you're Miss Ridiculous now."

"Matty!"

"Shush Ridiculous, get into the tub."

You smiled. At least, you had your old Matty back again.