andromeda // matty healy au

Only Ones Who Know

We relived our once perfect moment.

Everything felt the same: the day, the wine, the first few unfastened buttons on Matty's shirt. I felt like I was in a Florence and the Machine Song, romantic and nostalgic. This time, my red wig sat on the foam head on the side table, which I guess was the only difference in the atmosphere.

It was Monday night, and Matty and I were determined to enjoy ourselves like we did so long ago, before we were cut short.

"So, how many Oscar Wilde books do you have?" Matty asked as he glanced at my bookshelf. I watched the red splash around in his glass. His arm stretched across the back of the sofa as he cooly leaned back into the seat.

"Well, I liked collecting his plays and poems and books and stuff, but when I just turned sixteen, I was given his complete works." I fondly replayed the memory of Frances handing me a gift bag, her eyes pooling with glee. "But, I couldn't just get rid of my other copies! so I ended up just keeping all of them, even though I have his complete works in one place."

"Why do you want to keep them? Seems like they take up a lot of space on that shelf." He sipped his wine.

"Yes, they do." I watched him pull out his cigarette box and place it on my coffee table, then my eyes fell to my glass. His eyes clung to my hands as my fingers traced the lip of the bowl.

"That doesn't answer my question, Celeste." I lifted my head to see that I was met with a goofy grin. He wasn't savouring his wine anymore, his sips grew longer and longer. "Is there a reason?"

"Not really, I mean-" I paused to have a nip,- "I stole them. I worked for them and I wanna keep them." Matty's eyebrow quirked as he let out a laugh.

"You're not serious, right?" We laughed together and I waved my hand at him.

"Only some of them." I responded.

His eyes rolled and he placed his, now empty, wine glass on the coffee table. The items sat in a row on the tabletop: a quarter-full glass, an empty glass and his cigarette. He added his wallet, keys and lighter to the convoy, then settled back into my couch.

"I don't get it, love," he spoke as he sat further and further back until he was lying on his back. Matty propped his feet onto my lap and continued to speak. "How come I think I know a lot about you, and then you drop a bomb like that on me?"

"Well, I don't think it's a bomb, per se." I began. "How come you like to drop these stinky bombs you call feet on me?"

"It's not my fault!" he defended himself. "Your sofa is so much more comfy than mine!" I shoved his feet onto the floor. "And you changed the subject, that's not fair."

"Well, what do you want to know, Matty?" I asked. I pushed myself into my knees and slowly crawled up his body.  My arms sat on either side of his torso.

"I, uh," he stammered as he thought of something quickly. "What's your middle name?"

"Adele." I said, still creeping up to Matty's face. "What about you?"

"Timothy." he spoke in a posh tone. "Matthew Timothy Healy." I laughed as my head became in line with his chest. His arms snaked upwards as he placed his hands on my waist.

"What's your zodiac sign?" The wine made my mind think of one thing and it was Matty's mouth. I couldn't even keep my own in check as it rambled on about sun signs.

"Aries. Your turn." He wove his fingers through the ends of my hair.

"I'm a Virgo sun with a Leo moon." I said. Our eyes were level with one another.