stripper killer [matty healy]

six - basorexia

basorexia: (noun) an overwhelming urge to neck or kiss.

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india

before i could even think, my head quickly snaps around to put a face to the voice that had shaken me seconds before.

oh god no.

"i'm not a creep." he repeats, his voice wavering. the way he spoke made it seem like he was convincing himself, never mind me.

before i can respond, i stupidly let my eyes travel up and down his body, taking in his outfit for the first time tonight. the same black jeans and boots from the night we first met cover his bottom half - only this time paired with a plain black tee. his hair hangs crazily to the left now that there's no hair tie to restrain it, just like i had predicted. he looks just as intriguingly sexy as he did saturday and the smirk that was beginning to form on his lips made me realize he knew exactly what i was thinking.

rolling my eyes, i bring my fingers up to pinch the bridge of my nose. "max was it?"

his head tilts back as an amused laugh escapes him. if i didn't already dislike him, i would have probably found it cute.

"matty." he grins, taking a step closer, allowing me to breathe in his masculine scent. the way his eyes were glued to mine was beginning to making me uncomfortable. "though, let's not pretend you didn't remember."

i scowl at him. he was right. i did know his name. but i wasn't going to give him the satisfaction - no way. i scoff as i turn to walk in the opposite direction. but surely enough moments later he was stood in front of me, walking backwards as he spoke.

"c'mon. hold up. let me speak!"

i try to swerve out of his way several times, with no success.

"will you just fuck off?!" i hiss, stretching out the offensive word. he laughs again, this time holding his hands up either side of his face, as if pleasing guilty.

"calm down india. just let me explain."

i glare at him with narrowing eyes. "you remember my name?"

he comes closer until there are only inches separating us. he towers over me just like he had like last time, making me feel about 2ft tall.

"of course." he smiles, the moon eerily reflecting in his eyes. "how could i forget something so.... beautiful."

i scoff and push him aside. "you were rude and i have no interest in speaking to you." i quip, setting off down the pavement again.

after a few seconds went by i realized he wasn't following me. this admittedly annoyed me. you'd think he'd try harder to apologize. part of me wanted him to follow me. i was playing hard to get - that's what girls do. i glance over my shoulder to see him stood in the exact same position, only this time he was facing me, staring straight through me with a chillingly cold expression.

"what?" i snap, trying to cause an argument. his lack of response only causing my anger to increase. "well?!" my voice grows louder this time as i begin to trace the couple of steps i had taken before until were close again.

his eyes shut and he pulls his lips inwards, as though he was trying to fight something off. "i wouldn't..." he whispers.

"why? what you going to do?" i laugh as i shove his shoulder all too confidently. i was getting far too cocky, i know. but i hate how small he makes me feel. i wanted to fight back and push his buttons. he only sighs and glares at me in response - his eyes, glassy and unreadable.