Hurricane // Matty Healy ♣ The 1975

59. quiet

I woke up in the middle of he night to the sound of Matty whispering quiet words under his breath. 

"No..." 

I stayed quiet. 

"N-no, stop, please, stop the car!"

I sat up suddenly at the sound of him shouting. I turned the table lamp and shook him awake. 

"Matty," I said. "Matty, baby wake up." 

He opened his eyes and looked at me, his entire body shaking. 

"Lizzy?" He asked, I nodded my head softly. He sat up eventually and stared at the mattress, probably to try and stop me from seeing the tears running down hs cheeks, but eventually it all became too much and he began sobbing. 

I pulled him into my chest and stroked my fingers over the bare, sticky skin of his back. 

That night one stupidly overused quote rang true. 

Why do bad things happen to good people? 

---

As time went on, everything gradually got worse. He had nightmares every night that he never wanted to talk about, he flinched a lot, he got generally angrier as well, which I thought was personal but then the next day George, Ross, Adam and John came over to celebrate and Ross almost knocked one of Matty's guitars over, luckily he caught it before it hit the ground, but Matty still flipped out. 

"Oh, fuck, sorry." Ross said as he put Matty's Mustang back up against the wall. 

"Watch where you're going, mate." Matty frowned at him. 

"Yeah, I should have, sorry-" 

"You could have broken it." 

"Yeah but I didn't." 

"Fucking hell." He grumbled before walking off in the direction of the kitchen. 

"What's up with him?" George asked, I shrugged my shoulders.

"I dunno, He's been acting weirdly since we got back." I said, sipping my wine slowly, peering in the direction of the kitchen. 

"He'll probably get better." Adam said doubtfully, we all nodded, not wanting to say anything.