Omg! A Matty Healy Fanfic

// C H A P T E R S I X //

George was a different type of guy. Different than I'd thought when I walked into the garage and saw him at the drums last week. He was funny, and really laid back. I watched him as he leaned over the coffee table, sitting on his knees and drawing in the final page of my sketchbook.

"I told you I can't really draw as good as you so don't laugh at me." He warned me.

I laughed from the couch, holding my legs up to my chest, "I said alright." He must have repeated himself about a thousand times.

"Just sayin'." He shrugged, chuckling.

He was still tall even as he sat on his knees. I wanted so badly to fix his hair, it was going in all kinds of crazy directions. I liked it, I just really wanted to touch it.

If you touch him it will seem like you like him. Whore.

My eyes remained fixed on his hair.

Maybe you do though...do you like George? Even if you do he won't like you back. You're not cute. Or hot. You look like shit, especially right now. Ugh, fucking fuzzy socks.

Before I knew it I was tossing my socks across the living room. George turned around, looking at me.

"Oh...sorry...I got a little...hot." I said.

He laughed, turning back around, "you're a funny one."

Me? Funny? "I am?"

He nodded, guarding the book so I couldn't see what he was drawing until he finished.

"Yeah." He said, turning around and handing me the open book. I looked at it.

"It's me... I think." I said, looking up at him.

"Correct." He shrugged, "I'm not good at--"

"I love it." I smiled, "it's better than you think. Why did you put such huge sunglasses on me though?" I laughed a little.

He got up from the floor and sat next to me, "because you hide."

"Hide?" I asked, a bit confused.

He just nodded.

"Explain." I said.

He smiled, thinking for a moment, "you hide from the world and that's your defense mechanism against life. You survive by keeping everything to yourself."

I didn't say anything, I just listened.

"What you see or feel behind those glasses, we'll never know. We as in the world. Only you, will know. Because your mouth won't tell it." He finished.

I looked down at the drawing one last time, then shut the book. How could he tell?

The front door opened, I turned around, it was my dad. Shit.

"Dad...I thought you were getting off work later?" I asked, George turned around also, sitting up properly as he saw my dad.

"Not anymore. I see you have company." His eyes trailed over to George, who waved at him to be polite.

"Oh uh--"

"I was just about to get going soon anyway, I--"

"No, no you're here now no need to leave just because old man walked through the door." He said. I held back a sigh, feeling slightly embarrassed.

"Uh, dad this is George. George, my dad." I stood up.

"Nice to meet you." George stood up also, walking over to him and shaking his hand.