Pretty Kind of Dirty Face {Matty Healy}

02 // An Encounter

When I woke up at one in the morning, it was usually because I was craving comfort. However, on this night, a mug of chocolate ice cream and an episode of Friends didn't help in the slightest. I was exhausted, but I couldn't bring myself to close my eyes. There was something else I needed that I couldn't place my finger on. So, I pulled on an old sweatshirt and quietly exited the house.

I thought about making my way to Cecily's house, considering she lived right down the road. Growing up without any siblings made me spend many late nights with my best friend - I was even considering asking her to take a walk at 1 AM. But this was one night where Cecily's enthusiasm wasn't going to be warmly welcomed by me. If ice cream and Friends didn't help, I wasn't sure what would.

Thankful (for one of the first times ever) that I lived in a small town, I made my way down the quiet streets. The few lampposts we had illuminated my path, watching over me to make sure I didn't fall on my face.

It didn't take me long to realize how absolutely wonderful walks at night were. Maybe this was exactly what I needed, the satisfaction to my frequent late-night cravings. Maybe all I needed was time alone, to breathe some fresh air and allow the breeze to clear my head.

I didn't have much time to clear my head, though, before I was struck with too many thoughts to comprehend at once. Up ahead, a figure stood, cloaked in the shadows of the streetlights. He walked toward me, stumbling to the edge of the road as he did so.

Telling myself that it was all a huge mistake - the slippers I still wore on my feet, the time I chose to take a walk, the fact that I was missing my cell phone and couldn't call for help - I froze in my place, directly under a light. I couldn't decide if I should run back to my house or if maybe Cecily's was closer or if I should just stay put and scream my heart out.

But then he spoke. I could have recognized that voice just about anywhere. "El?" the shadow ahead of me yelled. Then, again, but more excited, "El!"

I started to pivot on my heel and leave. There was one person in the entire world who called me El; I knew damn well who it was. I wanted a late-night walk to calm my ever-racing mind, and Matty was not about to ruin it.

"No, Matty," I said loudly, walking in the opposite direction. Footsteps ran after me and I braced myself for the worst - a full-on piggyback ride? A smooch on the lips? I wasn't quite sure.

But then, the street was silent. Matty's boots stopped clicking on the pavement. All I could hear were the crickets in the bushes mingled with the sound of my own breath. And then, another noise from the man behind me.

"Eloise?"

His voice was quiet and hoarse, barely anything more than a whisper.

"Please."

I resisted the urge to sigh as I gave in, turning around. Instead of standing in the shadows like he was before, Matty was sitting on the pavement, his hands running through his messy black hair. I couldn't help but pity him - he looked so vulnerable, drunk and alone in the middle of the road. So I made my way to where he was.

He looked up as I sat down next to him. "Eloise? What are you doing?"

I shrugged, not sure how to answer but nonetheless thankful he used my real name. Maybe he wasn't so bad afterall. "Sitting here with you."

There was a pause. Matty looked back down at his hands in his lap. He murmured something, but not sure if it were intended for my ears, I didn't ask him to repeat it. Instead, I just listened, trying to make out bits and pieces of his slurred rant.

Without warning, Matty's arm wrapped around my shoulders. "Hey love," he said into my ear. God, he reeked of alcohol. "I'm sure a kiss from you would make me feel a whole lot better." His free hand reached up to grab one of the strings of my sweatshirt as he tried to keep me close.