You (Matty Healy)
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Continúa7h 17m
Última publicación mar, feb 5, 2019
"You're a good girl, do you know that?" He exhaled deeply with a disbelieving smile, pulling me to lie next to him. "Which is probably why I find you so hot. Those innocent eyes, fuck. I was done for. I always have been."
"You don't mean that." I laughed, clambering beneath the sheets.
"Ah, always so skeptical. But I mean it, your eyes are it for me. This magical emerald green that shines in the sunlight, and almost changes colour when you're talking about something you love. Like that fucking creative writing class you take with George. Your eyes, they shimmer and it's weird as shit but I love it. They remind me of the first day of spring, the sort of green that emerges from a really shit winter. The green that reminds you that everything is growing, and you're growing, and you're alive. That is what I love about your eyes." Matty half laughed to himself, climbing in after me. He cupped my cheek, stroking slightly with his thumb. "That and they look amazing when you're giving head."
"Stop!" I laughed, batting him away. He pulled me in closer however, close enough so that my head was forced to rest on his chest and I could hear the steady beat of his heart.
"It's true. Nothing like these old boring brown eyes of mine."
"Boring? Nothing about you is boring." I whispered, tracing the lines of his chest tattoo.
"How so?"
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Avery Collins, an 18 year old university student, has her world turned upside down by the arrival of a boy with messy hair, chocolate eyes and a past full of dark secrets. Juggling a social life, her insane room mates, uni studies and work, will she be able to cope with this boy and the realisation that maybe, just maybe, he was more dangerous than he looked?
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WARNING: This story contains explicit sexual content. Not recommended for precious little eyes. Please remember to practice safe sex always and don't fall in love with boys like Matty. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- My middle finger scrolled through the questions on my laptop, tapping loudly in annoyance. "Do you find yourself interrupted by sexual thoughts or desires as you are completing mundane daily tasks?" I asked him. Matty's index finger was tracing the square of his jaw now, which was atypically speckled with perfectly symmetrical stubble. I noticed every detail about him, the curve of his lips, the slant of his brows, the itty-bitty moles scattered on his face. "Sometimes," he answered. "For example, today, I was thinking about you in the shower, about how nice it'd be to fuck you against the glass door." I grinded my teeth together and clenched my hands tight. "Matty," I said, trying to be as firm as possible. "Those kinds of comments are inappropriate." Especially because I was imagining the same thing this morning, and for him to have been doing the same thing, it floored me. "You said to answer as truthfully and honestly as possible, Jones," he shrugged, toying with his hair. "My turn? Am I frustrating you, darling?"
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