/ / R O B B E R S / / (Matty Healy/George Daniel)

She had a face straight outta magazine

Matty was lost, and afraid, and so desperately alone. His once fresh face was now tear-stained and grimy, his eyes were sunken in with exhaustion, and his lack of proper meals was showing on his already thin frame.

The thing he thought he craved most was now threatening to crush him, filling his aching limbs with an incessant shaking that refused to cease no matter how hard he tried to stop it. Matty had stupidly assumed that once he was alone and free of everything that had been wrong in his life, he would be fine, but now he was plagued by other demons that went by the names of hunger, and fatigue, and fear.

Matty sunk down onto a nearby curb, clutching the bottle of water he managed to nick from the Tesco across the street in his fist carefully. His hand trembled erratically as he struggled to open it, his eyes tearing up when the cap refused to budge despite his best efforts.

Frustrated and worn out, and probably also dehydrated as well, Matty gave up, dropping his head in between his knees when he was hit with an intense rush of dizziness, the new position putting strain on his damaged ribs that had him gasping in pain, but he was too exhausted to get back up again.

Matty didn't move even when a large off blue van pulled into the open space in front of him, his shoulders shuddering under the weight of the sobs he was attempting to choke back. He really didn't care if someone saw him in this state, it's not like they were going to give a fuck about him anyway, but he still hated appearing so weak in front of strangers.

Matty faintly registered the sound of a door being opened, as well as the accompanying sound of footsteps heading in his direction, but it was still a shock to him when a large hand touched his shoulder gently, snapping his head upward as he automatically flinched away in fear, his arms cradling his damaged torso in a protective gesture that he had learned didn't really prevent him from receiving an injury, but it was an instinctual motion by this point.

"Hey, it's okay," a deep voice broke through Matty's panicked state, allowing him to glance up briefly so he could observe the brown haired boy that was kneeling awkwardly beside him, "I'm not going to hurt you."

Matty nodded dumbly in response since he wasn't sure what he was supposed to say to this kind stranger, or even if he could form any words at the moment. He wasn't the sort of person to trust easily, but in his broken down state, he found himself gravitating toward the boy instantly since he had bothered to give him something other than a scathing glance or a soft sniff of disapproval.

"George - what the hell are you doing?" another man asked from inside the vehicle, but the boy named George ignored them, instead, turning his full attention to Matty which had him feeling both uncomfortable and pleased all at once.

"Are you alright?" George asked quietly, his palm still resting heavily on Matty's frail shoulder, allowing him to feel his muscles working as Matty shrugged helplessly, because he wasn't, not even close, but he didn't understand why this random boy cared one way or the other. "Do you need a ride somewhere maybe?" George continued to press when Matty remained silent, the sincerity he could discern in his voice giving him the courage to attempt to answer him.

"No...got no place to stay," Matty admitted in a hoarse tone, his eyes welling with tears although he had been sure he'd cried himself out earlier. "I ran away."

"Where do you live?" George asked in the same gentle cadence, something about his presence leaving Matty at ease even though he'd avoided anyone who had seemed at all concerned about him so far in fear of them returning him back to his home if he told them what had happened, not that many people had.

"Manchester," Matty choked out, fear welling in his gut when he considered being made to go back there, but he was incapable of lying to this stranger for some reason he couldn't explain.

"Fuck...you know you're halfway to Liverpool now right?" George cursed, but he sounded more awed them upset really, which had Matty grinning softly when he learned of the distance he had managed to travel on his own two feet.

"George - hurry the fuck up or we're leaving you," the person inside the van yelled again, causing Matty to shrink in on himself in the hopes that the man's anger wouldn't be transferred toward him any time soon.

"Shut up Ross, can't you see he's hurt?" George called back, turning around completely so his voice could carry farther, giving Matty a chance to escape if he wanted to take it, but he wasn't all that inclined to flee just yet, not to mention his legs protested angrily at even the thought of any more movement.

"He's too young George, just leave him. If we pick up every lost boy you spot on the side of the street, we'll never be able to support ourselves."

"Just give me five more minutes," George sighed, shifting his body back in Matty's direction with an apologetic look on his face.

"Too young for what?" Matty asked nervously, his brain spinning rapidly as he tried to decipher why George had even bothered with speaking to him in the first place, a sequence of terrible scenarios flashing through his head before he quickly banished them, not wanting to think ill of George without being given a reason to.

"To take you with us," George answered slowly, his eyes scanning Matty's huddled frame rapidly as if he was anticipating him to bolt as soon as he spoke. "I saw you in town earlier, and then when we spotted you again, I felt like I should at least ask. I don't know what you've been through, but I can tell you're alone, and tired, and hungry, just like we all were at one point, and no one deserves to feel that way, so if you want, you can travel with us until you figure something else out."

"Why would you do that for me?" Matty dared to voice his query, because as much as he wanted to say yes and run into the warmth of the van despite the risk that came with trusting complete strangers, he had to understand George's intentions.

"Because you remind me of myself, and if I don't at least offer you a safe place to sleep, I know I'll regret it."

"I don't know," Matty croaked out, his mind tearing itself in two as he weighed the pros and cons of this unexpected situation.

Matty knew he needed to ask more questions before he even considered this, or maybe he should have started running long ago, but he was exhausted, and lonely, and desperate to stay in the presence of anyone who showed him even the smallest hint of kindness.

Matty was also afraid of what could happen to him if he placed his life in the hands of a boy he didn't know, but at the same time, could anything be worse than his current predicament? He wasn't going to survive for much longer on the streets, so really, he didn't have anything to lose.

"We aren't going to kidnap you or anything, and you can leave anytime you want, but Ross, my mate can bandage you up at least," George pressed just when Matty had been about to open his mouth to agree, his assurances solidifying Matty's decision even more, allowing him to pretend that this wasn't quite possibly the stupidest thing he had ever done.

"Yeah, alright," Matty nodded, his knees shaking as he attempted to stand up when George regained his feet, only for a sharp spike of pain to flair through his midsection, leaving him doubled over and groaning weakly.

"I've got you," George murmured, his arms carefully wrapping around Matty's frame as he lifted him upward, cradling him against his chest when Matty whimpered quietly.

And even though Matty might have been delirious at this point thanks to his injuries and lack of sustenance, at that moment, George appeared like an angel to him when the sun peeked out behind the dark clouds, highlighting his features with a soft glow that made Matty feel safe and protected, and for the first time in his life, Matty dared to hope that he might be okay.