c h a n g e -o f- h e a r t

•c h a p t e r t w e l v e•

A/N sorry for not updating for a bit. I've been so busy but now that the whole world is basically shut down, I have more time to write :) also, this is currently number twelve in "Matty Healy", so thank you, thank you, and thank you a few more times for reading and voting and stuff. Please keep it up if you like the story! 💜

I'm already regretting agreeing to go to the party. Rose stands in front of me with a tweezers, ripping out stray eyebrow hairs like her life depends upon it.
"What are-ow! Stop!" I groan, trying to lean away, "I want some eyebrow left after this, you know." I tell my sister.
Rose glares at me and continues pulling hair out of my face. When she steps away and I get to examine myself in the mirror, I'm surprised. While the skin is a little red, Rose actually did a nice job cleaning them up, and they aren't too thin either. "Thanks," I tell her. She doesn't reply as she pushes me from the bathroom into her room.
"We need to make you look fine as hell," is all she says as she sifts through her closet, "this is a see-you-in-hell emergency. You've got to show up looking the best in the room."
See-you-in-hell is something Rose and I had learned at a young age. It basically meant that on an occasion where perhaps one has been royally screwed over, that person comes back looking ten times better than everyone else and a total ice queen. See-you-in-hell is reserved for instances such as: going to a class reunion where you might see an ex boyfriend where the relationship ended badly, going to a wedding in which the bride is younger than you and you're still single, handing in your job resignation, etc.
Or an occasion like seeing the man who last time pretty much ripped your heart out of your chest.
Rose hands me a wad of black material and a pair of very high, very pointy heels that I probably won't be able to walk in. "Put these on while I get ready," she says, "oh and you'll need this," she hands me a strapless, backless bra, the kind you can use to push up your girls with. I inwardly groan, but I start to change nevertheless.
Once I'm all dressed, I face myself in the mirror and stop. I still haven't put any makeup on yet, but, dang, Rose sure knows what she's doing. The dress is black, short, and tight, clinging to my curves. It's sheer, save for a thicker panel around the bra area. The sleeves, while thin, aren't too thin and the dress has a nice floral pattern that wraps up the sleeves nicely. It's off the shoulder but not too scandalous, something I am very grateful for. I smile at myself in the mirror as I tug the material a little lower on my legs and slide into those impossibly high heels Rose has set out for me. I gather my hair into a ponytail, but just as I'm about to tie the hair binder around it, Rose walks in, "Uh no. None of that plain ponytail business," she said.
"What's wrong with ponytails?" I ask her.
"I just have other plans," she brandishes her hair curler at me with a devious smirk, "come sit down."
An hour and several attempts at me putting on my own false lashes later, I don't recognize the girl looking at me in the mirror. She's gorgeous. Her long deep hair is shiny and falls into curls around her waist, pinned back a little on the sides. Her eyes are wide and bright, her cheeks pink, and lips rosy. She's the girl I wish I could look like every day. I gasp, "Rose, this..wow. You're amazing," I tell her. Rose smiles as she slips into her own gold heels that match the long sleeve, geometric patterned dress she's wearing; something only Rose could pull off the way she does. "I got you, baby sis," she hands me a jacket, "let's go."
The place where the party is being held is huge and yet still crowded with people. Rose takes my hand and tugs me through the crowds and to the bar, "trust me, you'll need this," she says as she orders for me. She hands me my drink and I take a sip hesitantly only to sputter it out a little, "is this, like, all whiskey?" I ask her.
She shrugs, "Scott makes them strong," she says simply.
Huh.
Rose pulls me around to mingle and I position myself slightly behind her, not ashamed to hide behind my big sister like I almost always do.
"Violet?"
A smooth voice sounds from behind me and I turn to look up into the chocolate eyes of none other than Matty freaking Healy. We lock eyes for a moment before his eyes rake up my body. I swear they grow darker, but it could also be the light in this place.
"Uh, hi?" It sounds like a question and I curse myself. This is so not see-you-in-hell of me.
"You," he pauses, swallowing hard, "you look good."
"Thank you," I say in a small voice, offering a small smile.
"C..can I get you a drink?" He asks, not noticing that I've got one in my hand. Suddenly the drink in my hand is tugged out and Rose's voice sounds from behind me, "she'd love a drink," my traitor sister says, despite my not-so-subtle protests. She kicks me lightly with her sharp heel and I gasp and stumble forward. Matty catches me and smiles, "c'mon," he takes my hand in his cool one and leads me back to the bar. I don't hear what he orders, but he orders for me, something a lot of people seem to be doing lately. Luckily for them I don't really drink enough to know what I like and therefore don't have a go-to drink. He hands me the glass that's definitely bigger than the one Rose had gotten me and then leads me off the dance floor. We're still in the room but the corner he's lead us to is definitely quieter than where we had been, something I am grateful for. He turns to face me, "hi," he says, shifting from foot to foot awkwardly.
"Hi," I reply, taking a drink of whatever he got me. There's definitely some sort of vodka in here.
"Listen," he says, stepping closer, "I...I need to talk to you."
I nod between us, "you are doing just that?"
The corner of his mouth quirks up in a cute half smile, "okay fair. Listen, Violet," he pauses, looking as if he's struggling to say what he wants to say. Finally he looks down at me again, "well first and foremost, I need to apologize."
"Who is this and where is Matty?" I joke.
He gives another half smile before continuing, "I'm serious," he says, "I...I'm really, truly sorry for how I treated you. I want to start over."
Does he mean over over? Like before the time he kissed me?
As if he can read my mind Matty continues, "not all the way though, because I certainly don't regret kissing you like I did that day in your room."
I'm glad the lights are low so he can't see my blush.
He tilts my head up with his thumb and brushes it lightly across my bottom lip, "what do you say?"
I smile at him, "I say that sounds very nice."
He looks incredibly relieved as he lets out a visible sigh, "I know I don't deserve this, so thank you," he says.
I don't think I could hold a grudge against this man if I could.
"You look beautiful," Matty says, "but you look beautiful without makeup too, you know. I almost like you better that way. Not that you asked," he shoves the hand not holding the drink into his pocket.
I smile, "thank you."
We just stare at one another for a moment before Matty leans his head down and takes his hand out of his pocket, tilting my head up with his thumb and cupping my cheek.. He pulls away and sets his drink down on a nearby table before putting another hand on my waist, pulling me a little closer. He pulls away for a moment, his voice low as he says, "thank you." Before I can ask what he's thanking me for, his mouth is back on mine. The last time he kissed me with alcohol on his breath the kiss was rough and urgent. This time he kisses me gently, as if we have all the time in the world.
And this time we just might.