opia; matty healy.

38%

"Of course," a kiss on my cheek, "I care, too."

I move away from him as he reaches over to grab a small, black book from the edge of my bed that I hadn't noticed he brought in. He places it in my hands with a smile.

"I don't want to be with anyone else," he tells me, "At least, not right now and not in the next year or two or three. The only way I can feel safe is if you have this- not forever, just- read it? Please?"

"What- I don't- Okay?" I try, but my words fail me and Matty can't help but laugh.

"I've written almost every thought I've had in the last year in this book, I don't know how else to give you everything I've got right now."

I can't believe it. It's a lot at once, to be given something so personal by someone who cares so deeply to a point you can already fathom slightly – and now, he cares more? More than imaginable. More than I could have ever thought, and even if he doesn't, he wants to.

I lean in and kiss him, no words capable of escaping me without stumbling a million times and looking stupid.

"I was hoping I could stay," he says quietly, looking up at me hopefully.

I nod, watching him pull his shoes off as I climb under the sheets. His pants are next and I try not to stare – I think he knows this because he laughs a little and raises a brow in my direction. I want to tell him this is new to me, but my voice is stuck in my throat and I know there'll be another time to have this conversation.

He lies next to me, silence filling the room except for our heavy breathing. I try to calm mine and focus on his, closing my eyes and shifting over onto my side to face him. His arm wraps around my waist and I shuffle closer, burying my head into the crook of his neck with his head resting on top of mine.

My curtains part a few hours earlier, to burden my room with the morning sunlight. I groan, wishing it hadn't come so quick, but I find no escape from the light. Matty stirs awake, his arm not leaving my side as his eyes break open and he smiles.

"Morning," I say, feeling more self-conscious than any other time.

"Morning, love," his voice is raspy with sleep and I feel my stomach flip at the sound, "What's the time?"

I roll over, his arm moving further off my skin, as I reach over to the bedside table and grab my phone. It's 7 in the morning, perfect timing to get ourselves out of bed and ready for the first day of the year back at school. It's not that I want to go – I certainly don't want to leave this bed, and I don't want to leave Matty's side – but getting back into a routine brings a sense of calmness over me.

"You'll have to help carry my paintings to class," I tell him, his eyes still half closed.

He hums, "or we could stay here until four in the afternoon."

"In half an hour, Mum's gonna come pounding on the bedroom door getting me up – she won't be happy about me being late, and she won't be happy about Matthew Healy sleeping beside me."

"Your mother will get over it," he tells me, pulling me closer as I let out a short laugh.

"You may do the honours of telling her just that," I say, my arm wrapping around his waist now too.

He hums again, and we spend ten minutes like this before I pull myself away and claim I'm going to get my ass kicked. I tell him to wait in my bedroom as I go downstairs and check for my parents. Their bedroom door is wide open and neither of them are home, strange, but I let it go. I call for Matty to come down, and he greets me in the doorway of the kitchen seconds later – fully clothed. As nice as it is to see him wearing pants, I didn't mind when he discarded them last night either. My cheeks turn crimson red at the thought.