♡︎ Matt Sturniolo Centric One-Shots ♡︎

Testing The Waters {Chris & Matt}

Triggering content in this one, please don't read if it'll be a trigger in any way.

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Matt has a fascination with water, with the calmness, the overall serenity that it always seemed to bring. He isn't entirely sure why.

Even now he isn't It's still unclear what had brought it on. For as long as he could recall he'd always been the first one in, the last one to get out wherever they were swimming. He tells himself what he's doing now isn't any different, that what brings so much quietness can't possibly hurt him.

Matt likes water, maybe a little more than he should, perhaps for the wrong reasons even.

None of it matters. All he knows is that he appreciates the feel of it at his fingertips, the way everything always feels so insignificant, less vociferous, muted, weightless while submerged in it. It was as though everything else everything around him just went away.

He thinks he likes it the best when it's just him, him alone in the bath. Submerged entirely and testing the waters when he's breathless. His mind was the most quiet then.

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His brothers had always wondered how he held his breath so well, he's heard them mumble before about how any water-related competition is unfair when it comes to him. That he's freakishly good at them.

When asked he tells them he doesn't know why that is. That he's just better than them at it, that his lungs are just better.

He does know why that is. No, he doesn't.

Luckily, they never seem to think any more into his reply, they'll throw back a generic retort, sure, that's what they do, they might give a swift hit on the back maybe. But that's it. It's as though they forget about it until the next time it's brought up.

They never once suspect that there's anything more sinister going on, that there's any reason behind it. That Matt has trained his lungs to fight against the need for air.

He's fine though. Matt tells himself, he's just fine. There's no need for him to overreact, to make this habit of his any deeper than it actually is. Nonetheless, he has an inkling of a thought that Chris might be catching on to what he's doing, that his excuses of just enjoying long baths work less and less every time.

The younger is catching on, that much is visibly clear, Matt, just didn't know how true that was. Just how much Chris was figuring out each and every time.

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Matt supposes It all metaphorically went to shit a day before their shared birthday, when Matt had made a vital mistake July 31st. For the first time since he'd started doing this Matt fears he may of gone too far.

He'd been upset too upset for his mind to even process what it was that was making him feel so low. He's just numb and everything seems so loud. His mind wouldn't shut up with how incessant and cruel it was being. He needs this, he thinks.

So Matt twists the faucet on, effectively the water starts dripping. Spooling out of the metal, he watched mutely as the droplets continued trickling, feeling like he's running solely off of nerves.

The waters high now, higher than he'd like. Any higher and it'll overflow when he gets in. Quickly, Matt snaps the faucet off at the thought, stripping his clothes off, stepping in shakily. It's hot, not scalding, still far more than just warm. The water tickles at his ankles to the point the temperature feels as though it's biting at his skin. Leaving it colored in a red hue.

He decides he doesn't care, continuing stepping in even as little whirlpools circle around his ankles. Matt lowers himself further into the tub, descending until he's fully seated. He sits for a moment, adjusting to it. Then Inhaling shakily Matt flattens his back against the bottom of the acrylic surface, his knees bend on their own accord. Head being plunged beneath the water. He closes his eyes as air bubbles leave his nostrils, his hair swirls around him. A halo of brunette strands.