MILK [Matty Healy]

Sleep

Alyssa passed out in the passenger seat as I drove towards my house, sitting in the traffic that extended our journey by half an hour.

I looked over at her for a few seconds and suddenly felt worried. I could've mistaken her for a corpse; she looked dead as she slept. Her skin wasn't pale and her rib cage still rose and fell but she stayed eerily still, completely encapsulated by sleep. I envied her for a moment.

I was taken away from my thoughts as a loud car horn from behind told me then I needed to move and I stepped on the accelerator.

I pulled up outside my apartment after finally getting through the traffic, turning the engine off and looking to Alyssa who was still fast asleep.
"Alyssa" I mumbled, shaking her arm a little but she pushed me away, staying asleep. I bit my lip, not quite knowing what to do with her. I opened my door, getting out of the car and walking around to her side, pulling her door open. I gently pushed my hands underneath her as respectfully as possible, lifting her out of the car in a bridal style. She didn't object, not even waking up to do so as I shut the car door and as quickly as I could got to the front door.

It felt so wrong carrying another woman into my apartment, although this encounter was nothing sexual, I knew my neighbours would think otherwise.
"Are you dead?" I whispered to Alyssa as I pushed the door open and let it shut behind us.
"Sorry" she mumbled with her eyes still shut as I made my way into the guest bedroom, laying her down on the bed. "I'll pay you for this" the smallest smile appeared on her lips for a second as I laughed at her mumbling, walking out of the room.

It wasn't that I minded letting her sleep in my apartment and carrying her was easy but I was suddenly paranoid. I wondered if Imogen would knock on the door any second- I knew she wouldn't; she never did. But having another girl in my house was making my mind tick.

I needed sleep.

=

I woke up to the highly irritating sound of my phone vibrating on my bedside table, rattling against the wood as I sat up with a groan.
"Hello?" I yawned, forgetting to look at the caller ID.
"Fucking hell, Matt" George's familiar deep voice came through the phone. "I've been calling for almost an hour now- are you alright?" He asked and I laughed sleepily at his worried tone.
"I'm great" I smiled, honestly feeling relieved after having more sleep.

"I bet you are- Ross told us that Alyssa turned up at the studio" George stated and I hummed, scratching my bare collar bone as I stared at my shirt on the floor. The line was silent as if George was waiting for me to tell him something.

"Did you sleep with her? We thought you're pretty fucked off with Imogen recently and then Alyssa turns up and you go quiet f-"
"G! I don't even know the girl" I cut him off, laughing to myself and looking to the other side of my bed- just making sure.

"Come over later, I'm busy at the moment" I bluntly added, ending the call and yawning as I pulled myself out of bed. I picked my jeans up from the floor that I'd taken off before going to sleep, pulling them back on.

=

Alyssa

I woke up as I heard a door slam, rolling over on a mattress and rubbing my eyes as I heard two contrasting voices- recognising one as Matty.

Everything that had happened before I'd fallen asleep flooding back into my brain as I pulled the covers off of my body- thankful to still find myself fully clothed.
"Christ" I mumbled as I sat up, overwhelmed that I'd been in such a deep sleep- I'd definitely slept for at least an hour.

I got out of Matty's spare bed, stretching and feeling myself relax for the first time in what felt like months as I heard a woman yelling.

"What? No Matty all you want to do is bend her over! That's why y-"
"Are you fucking joking? I barely know the girl. The only reason you came round was to piss me off"

I heard a woman's voice yelling at Matty, quickly assuming it was his girlfriend as he argued back. I froze as I stood looking at the closed door, listening to what they were shouting about and chewing my lip.

"You know what Matty? Fuck her! I don't care"
"Stop bring ridiculous, Imo!" Matty groaned, pleading with her. "How about you explain why you moaned 'George' the other night when you were with me?"
I brought my hand to my mouth as I listened, feeling like I really shouldn't know this information. I felt bad for Matty, he sounded upset.

The apartment went silent as I heard some shoes clipping on the floor and the front door slammed. I waited a minute, checking myself in the mirror before leaving the room- slowly walking into the kitchen.

Matty was sitting at the breakfast table, his elbows propped up and his head in his hand.
"Hey" I said hesitantly and his head shot up. I'd noticed that Matty's eyebrows naturally made him look sad most of the time but now they were a little more tilted than usual.
"You're alive" he laughed weakly, I assumed he'd forgotten I was even in his apartment. "Sorry if you heard that- my girlfriend came round and I had to tell her you were here"

"No I'm sorry I caused all this shit for you; I should try to not get in the way of your relationship" I rambled, playing with the rings on my fingers nervously. "Thank you so much for letting me stay... I am sorry about that" I chewed my lip and he just shook his head politely.

"No darling it's not your fault at all, don't think that" he laughed softly, shaking his head. "do you drink tea? Coffee? I can give you a ride home if you need" he looked up at the clock that hung on the wall next to the table. We hadn't got to know each other at all despite colliding multiple times and I felt as if Matty was curious.

"Tea, one sugar please" I smiled as he stood up, accepting his offer for a drink as admittedly, I hadn't drank all day which wasn't great.
"Can I ask you something, Lyss?" Matty looked over to me, a fag now hanging from his mouth as he found his lighter and lit the end.
"You can if you never call me that again" I grimaced.

"What?" He asked in disbelief, filling the kettle and flicking it on to boil. "I like it" he took a long drag from his cigarette, still looking pretty down.

He leaned against the kitchen side, blowing smoke from his mouth and not removing his eyes from me.
"How old are you? You can't be over 20" he looked puzzled, searching my face as if to find a clue to my age.

"Seventeen" I laughed nervously- God, he must think I'm so young. "And a half" I added truthfully. I had no idea why I was telling him this.