andromeda // matty healy au

My Love Was Like the Rain

Matty was so kind, he offered to walk me home after my shift. He was leaning against the wall outside while I gathered my things into my bag. When I met him at the front, I kissed him on the cheek.

"Hey, love," he said mid-embrace. His voice was as smooth as silk and as soft as his fluffy hair. His words cradled us all the way home, as he told me about a meeting the boys had with a music producer that saw their show at the club.

"And his office was so clean, almost to the point of being creepy, but when he offered us a meeting with a UK label, I didn't really look at his office all that much." He spoke with a new excited tone, which matched the new skip in his step, as well. "He said he 'liked our sound'".

"Wow, Matty, I'm so happy for you guys." I squeezed his hand tighter and beamed at him. "Did he say anything else?"

"He also said that the venue choice was fantastic," he did a chef's kiss with his free hand, "because, well, you know..." he trailed off, but laughed anyway.

"Because all the girls had their asses hanging out of their costumes?" I snorted.

"No, he meant that it looked really vintage and cool after it was restored," he said as he squeezed my hand. "You dancing around in that outfit was just a plus."

We turned the corner and our place was just around the road. Lucky break, as the rain was just starting to fall. The skies had opened and it was my cue to push my hair into the hood of my jumper. Matty did his best to cover his whole body with his leather jacket. Without disconnecting our hands, we moved quickly, trying to get us out of the impending downpour. We hurriedly closed the door of the building behind us, breathing hard from the short jaunt down the street.

Matty gestured with a fancy wave of his arm toward the stairs, then he extended an elbow for me to take. I wanted to take it and walk up with him, but I refused to believe we would have to part ways once we got to the top floor.

"Would you maybe want to have dinner at my place tonight?" He asked as I took his invitation. The rain had gotten his face, as his skin glistened in the naked light of the hallway.

"Yes, that would be very nice." I said. "I'll get changed and then I'll over bring some wine."

"Sounds good," he said. "I'll be outside your place at six." I laughed.

"And if I drink too much, will you be able to drive me home?" He beamed at me, then rolled his eyes.

"Silly Celeste," he shook his head, letting his curls bounce around his face. "My next invitation would be a sleepover."

And with that, we spent the night in each other's arms, laughing, telling stories, making promises. I told him about my getaway from my old house and then he told me about the time Ross laughed so hard that milk came out of his nose. He told me about the worst depression he had went through as a teen, then I told him about the time I fell off the swing at elementary school and broke my wrist. I told him about my how my dream is to kiss Oscar Wilde's grave in the perfect shade of red lipstick, and he told me about how he wanted to see the world.

"And they had to put it in a cast, it's still in my old bedroom closet." I said, as we ate ice cream in a tumble of blankets on my couch. "When I got it taken off, my uncle told me not to worry, because the saw stops when it hits bone." Matty roared with laughter and nearly fell off of his seat. 

"Your uncle sounds like quite the man." He said, wiping a fake tear from his eye. "Good god, that must of scared you."

"Oh, fuck yeah." My eyes bore into his, "Imagine telling a six year old child that the medical equipment would only slightly chop off their arm. I was mortified!"

Sometimes, we grew silent as we leaned against one another. One of us would tell a story or juicy secret, then to digest, I would curl up onto his chest, or he would lie across my stomach. When we felt like we shared enough, it was time for bed.

Matty made us a pot of tea, and we took it back to his bedroom. He offered me a pair of shorts and a big t-shirt to sleep in, and it may have been the best sleep I had ever had. His bed seemed so much more comfy than mine, and it cradled us until we drifted to sleep together.

We didn't fuck, but it was better that way. I think the night would have felt different if we did. We already saw a lot of each other because of our stories and it felt us feeling vulnerable, but trusted. It was nice to be trusted.

It was tender and caring and soft and sweet and I didn't want it to end, but things happen and I don't want to admit things happen but sometimes, things happen.