Hurricane // Matty Healy ♣ The 1975

57. hurt

She was wearing plain light blue scrubs, her soft red hair was pulled up into a sock bun, her nails were short and jagged, but her eyeliner was pretty much perfect. She was about thirty, but, probably due to the night shift, she looked at least seven years older. She glanced down at her computer screen and scrolled, mouthing his name over and over again until she came across it.

"Who are you?" She asked.

"Friends. She's- She's his girlfriend." I didn't think I was the only one who noticed as he stuttred when he referred to me as Matty's girlfriend.

She asked our names before giving us the number of his room. We all thanked her and walked off down the squeaky corridor in the direction of his room, it only took us five minutes to find. Denise was standing outside, alongside Louis, they both looks exhausted. 

When she saw her, her eyes lit up even more. She hugged us all seperately and asked about the journey and told as that matty was in a stable condition and how he should be out within about five days if everything went as planned.

We were waiting for fifteen minutes until Matty's dad came out fo his room. 

Everything seemed awkward. 

George looked at me. 

"Do you want to...?" I shook my head gently. 

"Um, no, you can go first." I said. I wasn't entirely sure why, I guess I just needed soem time to think about what I'd say. 

"Are you sure?" He asked. I frowned at him and nodded my head. 

"Yeah." 

George nodded and stood up from his seat. He walked into Matty's room and shut the door behind him, leaving me nervously gripping onto Adam's forearm for about fifteen minutes as I plotted out what I'd say. 

Maybe it wouldn't matter, surely we could just talk like we used to? Yeah. Yerah, we'd do that. But what if he asked me why I had left? I couldn't exactly say that I didn't feel up to staying there, and I most definetely couldn't tell him the reason for feeling that way.

Time went far too quickly, and before I knew it, George was holding the door open for me, and i was standing up and nervously walking towards him. 

"Thanks." I said quickly, taking the door from him and walking through, letting it swing shut behind me. 

I let out a shaky breath, I didn't want to look up, I didn't want to see him and see what I had left alone for my own selfish reasons. 

"Hi." He said. 

I looked up and my entire tough facade came crumbling down. 

"Hi..." I whimpered. 

I walked over and sat next to him. 

Fuck. 

He smiled at me softly. 

"So, how have you been?" He cleared his throat. I laughed sadly. 

"Pretty drunk. How about you?" 

"Pretty out of it." He chuckled. 

I wished he wasn't acting so happily. 

"Does it hurt?" I asked him. He shrugged. 

"Kind of, I mean most of my injuries have healed now, but it's still there, you know?" I nodded. "What about you? What happened to you?" I stroked my fingers over his shoulder, making him laugh a little. 

"Um, my ankle was twisted, my arm was broken, I had a fairly deep cut, a few smaller cuts, it's all healed now though. I've got quite a few scars though, nothing out of the ordinary." I shrugged. 

I was lying. I looked awful, disgusting. The newer scars teamed with the older ones just made me want to be sick. I'd never been particularly beautiful, but they just made it a whole lot worse. 

I couldn't complain though, I could have had it much, much worse. 

"Are you okay now?" He asked me. I shrugged.

"Yeah? I guess. Are you?" He nodded.

"Don't lie." We both said at exactly the same time, then we both let out a few breathy, humourless laughs. 

He budged over slightly and patted the side of the bed. I laughed and slipped my shoes off before lying down next to him. 

"Fuck this is uncomfortable." I grumbled and we both laughed quietly. It was awful, the mattress was lumpy and the sheets were itchy on my skin. 

"How was Christmas?" He asked me as I turned to face him. I laughed. 

"Shit." I replied. 

"Sorry about that." He said. I shook my head. 

"It's fine.