𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 ✹ matt sturniolo

𝟬𝟭𝟲. ❛ no one like you ❜

she adjusts the lacy white top she has on, which looks good in contrast to the leather skirt, but doesn't beat the itchiness of the fabric causing her to move the v-neck every five seconds. she then pulls up the skirt to sit on her waist better, analyzing her appearance afterwards with a low hum.

she just needs something to keep her mind off of matt. when he took her home from the shitshow of a party the other night, the drive was very quiet and tension-filled, so she knows it must be because he's still upset she won't tell him why she left. she wishes he would just let it go since she's had to let go of so many things that she's seen, but they haven't spoken since.

matt and maisie never necessarily went out of their way to speak to each other before they hooked up in the first place, and he was moreso just an annoying neighbor that she had the displeasure of running into every now and then, but it feels different now, and silence between them bothers her.

it's as if the universe can read her mind, because her phone pings on her bed. she spins around on her heels and heads for her bed, having to rummage through shopping bags tossed aside to find the device. she unlocks it as she walks back to the mirror, her footsteps slowing before eventually coming to a halt.

m word
Are your parents home?
now

maisie feels something familiar brew in her stomach as she makes eye contact with herself through the mirror. she looks over her outfit, mindlessly placing a hand on her hip before looking down and beginning to type a reply with the other.

no
delivered

she then intently watches her screen to catch him typing a response, eventually holding the phone with both hands as she impatiently waits. she hates to admit it, but she's been waiting for another text from him since the regret of fleeing his home last time hit her.

her little patience is wearing thin, when loud knocking from downstairs causes her to immediately look up from her phone. instantly, her eyebrows shoot to her forehead and her legs are moving to get the front door before she even realizes, traveling through her bedroom door and down the staircase as quickly as she can.

when she makes it in front of the door, she takes a short moment to catch her breath. she moves her hair behind her shoulders and internally prepares herself before finally reaching for the handle. she is not prepared at all, however, for the sight stood in front of her on the other side.

a crease automatically grows between maisie's eyebrows when matt is revealed to her not in his usual state of nonchalance, but with a subtle mix of blood and sweat not only slightly smeared across his forehead, but coming from a fresh gash on his bottom lip. concern floods her features rapidly, her natural instinct being to step forward and reach out for his chin. she can tell matt is in discomfort due to his pain displayed through his eyes as she turns his jaw to look at the damage to his mouth, but he keeps a mask up as he attempts to force an easy smile. "hey, mason," he says hoarsely, his voice soft enough to make her frown as her eyes jump from his visible wound to his eyes. the worried expression cast on her face causes him to lamely attempt a joke, "you should see the other guy."

"what the fuck, matt?" she says seriously as she drops her hand from his face, her voice quiet as she's never seen him so torn up before. her line of vision drops to his torso when he tries to subtly rubs at his ribs, making her stomach sink in suspicion of the probable bruising there. she then looks back to his face, catching him falter at her openly showing such care for him. she doesn't seem to think twice about her actions though, when she ultimately steps to the side to open up space. "hurry up, come inside."

"it's not even that bad this ti—" the look maisie shoots matt causes him to realize the mistake of his wording and pull his lips together as she closes the door behind him.