takes a bit more • matthew healy

xix.) tea

waking up next to matthew with no remembrance of last night is almost as embarrassing as the first night i ever went out with him for a drink.

only that first night had sexual things that followed.

and i have a strong feeling that this one is completely different.

different, i think. but just like any shit-faced hangover, the headache feels fucking terrible the minute i open my eyes.

"i feel like dying." i say aloud, not knowing if matty is even awake at this moment, because he's lying on his stomach, facing the opposite side of me.

"same here." i hear him groan, and it makes me jump a little. "had a fun night last night?"

the next wave of headache brings the sudden memory of shoplifting tequila, and drinking it alone in the dark corner of the room. fuck. "i need to puke."

i make a run for the loo, practically throwing my head in the toilet seat as i barf all the contents of my stomach in the water. why the fuck am i in an underwear?

"drink up." all of a sudden matty is crouched right next to me, holding a glass of water in one hand and rubbing my back with the other. "you drink. then you vomit."

i cannot comprehend if he is quite mad at me or whatever, but i follow his order, sticking my finger inside my mouth after downing a tall glass. it's making my throat hurt, but at least i'm throwing up all the regret i took in last night.

last night, last night, last night... fuck.

it was matty's show last night.

what the fuck am i thinking? of course he's fucking mad. i won't be surprised if he's seeing me as a disappointment right now, really.

"i'm sorry." i say. then i vomit all over the place. fucking tequila.

he's standing up now, possibly ignoring my apology.

i throw up some more. fucking tequila.

"would you like some tea?" i hear him call out. "i can make a quick run for the convenience store."

i'm exhausted from all the vomiting that my head is just hovering above the toilet, propping an arm to rest. "yes please."

a few seconds later, i hear the door shut.

what the fuck am i doing, i think to myself, as i sit there on the rather cold bathroom floor. matthew healy, this rockstar as he thinks of himself, older than me by i-don't-fucking-want-to-count years, swallowing his pride (and his rockstar image) to run to the convenience store, in his t-shirt and short boxers, to buy me tea. is this even real life?

while he's away, his phone keeps on ringing. being too exhausted (and unexplainably sad) to get up and answer (it's ringing from the bed), i let the annoying iphone default ringtone make its noise continuously until he gets back.

matty's frown isn't leaving his face, even as he answers the unattended call.

"hello." he says. "yeah, alright. thanks, mate."

beep.

"are you mad at me?" i ask.

matty proceeds to the tiny kitchen area and makes me tea. chamomile.

"i'm sorry." i say again.

"do you put honey in your tea?" he asks without looking up from the ceramic mug.

"oh. uhm... a bit would be alright." i reply.

"alright." he says.

and we don't speak. the sound of the small spoon circling around the mug is all i can hear, but my heart is thumping just as loud as my chest can allow me.

matty reenters, this time holding a cup of hot steaming tea. "i paid for the tequila." he mutters.

fuck. "oh."

"there was a piece of paper posted on their doors with your face on it, too." he raises an eyebrow, sighing. "asked them politely if i could tear it off and forget it ever happened—the lad behind the cashier knew who i was, worked double shift the day before to watch us last night, and the manager decided to shrug your incident all off."

"thanks." is all i can say. i take the cup from his hands and refuse to say anything more.

matty... i presume that he loves silence. although, i can sense that he can only have silence either with himself, or the people he's very very close with.

it makes me feel nice, knowing that i am one of those people.

at least there is something i can be quite sure of. even for a little bit.

"i'm sorry." i finally say, after about a few minutes of sipping tea and just gazing at whatever's interesting to look at in a toilet room. i have been staring at the bathtub. who would have thought we would be naked there last night?

i hear matty chuckle, his eyes averted on the tiled floor. "it's alright."

"how was the show last night?" i just have to ask, putting the cup right next to me. i'm near to breaking down again, actually, just by looking at matty. why does this boy look so sad.

"ah, it was mad." he's rubbing his temples, eyes squinted. he looks tired. "fucking hell, rhiannon. you should've seen me."

"are you officially a rockstar in your own right?" i smirk.

"oh, you won't believe me, will you?"

i smile a little. "you're such a dork."

matty smiles a little. "says you, lightweight."

i stretch my legs just a little bit to touch his knees, not giving a shit that i just have panties on. "this place feels a little sad, don't you think?"

matty chuckles, massaging my toes. "must be the scrapped wallpapers."

"or the cigarette stains on the carpet."

"i highly think it's the duvet. smells an awful lot like my nana."

i take a sip from my tea. "where is she, matty?"

"she's dead." he replies. "i would fucking love to say she's in, what, heaven or whatever, but i don't believe in a god, no matter how sad it is to not go anywhere when your heart stops beating. especially nana. i loved her with all my heart."

i raise my eyebrows. "nirvana, then?"

"i'm an atheist, rhiannon." he looks at me with a smirk, then proceeds to raise his shirt up. "you see this tattoo?" he points to a tattoo on his chest: a tattoo of a heart, with the name annie. "nana." he says.

"that's beautiful." i say, observing the tattoo like it's my first time.

"oh, as if you have not seen it up close before."

"fuck off," i roll my eyes, "i'm practically already half-naked in front of you, matthew."

in reply, matty puts his lips on the sole of my right foot. "fuck," he whispers, "cigarette stains on the carpet have an awful aftertaste."

i just want to kiss him, right there.

—

a/n: yes okay i have been putting this chapter off for awhile now, but fucking hell MFC MFC MFC