Pretty Kind of Dirty Face {Matty Healy}

06 // The City

{you got pretty eyes but I know you're wrong}

In the last twenty minutes of the ride, not another word had passed between Matty and I. I was afraid if I spoke up again, even to suggest playing one of those travel games, all it would lead to was a fight. I couldn't believe something so little as a friendly bickering about music tastes would create such a dissonance in the sound of our breaths.

After the last leg of the journey was finished, Matty pulled into a motel on the edge of what appeared to be a small city. "Come on," he said, not quite harshly, but definitely not sweetly.

Inside the little lobby, and old man sat behind a desk. He smiled when we came in, showing that apparently Matty did come here often. Watching the man whisper to Matty and look me over, I remembered that I was still in the pajamas that I wore to Cecily's house . . . and that I forgot to stop at my house before we left so that I could grab a change of clothes. That was a bit of a problem.

The man gave Matty a room key and gave me a grin that showed off his missing teeth. Blech.

"Let's go for a walk," Matty said, putting his arm around me and pulling me into his chest. "I wanna show you around."

"Where are we?" I asked. Judging by the way Matty put his arm around me and the way I didn't shrug it off, it seemed that things were better between us.

He turned his head so he could whisper into my ear, "The city. My city. I mean, my favorite city. I come here all the time."

I laughed. "But where, Matty?"

He didn't answer, he only hugged me a little bit tighter to him. After walking down the street sidewalks and peering into dark storefronts, Matty stopped in front of one suddenly. Through the window, guitars and amps shone in the fluorescent emergency lights. He smiled at them, as if they were old friends of his. Then he turned to me, his grin growing. "Do you wanna go in?" he asked.

"What?" I said, eyeing him suspiciously. "Isn't it closed?"

Matty nodded. "Yeah, but I'm pretty close to the guy who owns it. He's really chill about everything, he doesn't even have a security system."

I raised an eyebrow but didn't question Matty.

"Don't worry about it. I do this all the time." He stuck one hand into the pocket of his black skinny jeans, pulled out a bobby pin, and immediately went to picking at the lock. Anxiously, I looked around the street, hoping no one was out taking a late night stroll like we were. If anyone saw us breaking into a little music shop -- no matter how laid back the owner was -- we would be dead meat. Then, before I had time to worry much more, the lock clicked open and Matty was ushering me inside with a smile. Seeing the light in his eyes as I took a step forward toward him made it impossible for me to turn away. They were pretty, even in the faint glow of the lamp lights. I didn't want to break into a store. I didn't want to follow him inside. But then again, I originally didn't want to spend time with him and that wasn't turning out terribly. . . . No, I tried to convince myself, this is the worst. This isn't even remotely nice or romantic or anything. Not that I would want him to be romantic . . . no, not at all.

Matty immediately gravitated toward the vintage electric guitars on the back wall. As I walked slowly behind him, I couldn't help but speak up. "You like Mustangs, huh?"

He turned around, his eyebrows raised. "You know about Mustangs?" he said, shocked and slightly amused.

"Of course I do," I laughed. I came closer to where Matty stood, holding a guitar in his hand. I leaned in, whispering, "There's a lot about me you don't know."

With a grin on his lips, he started to lean in even more. "Oh really?" he whispered.

I was startled by the butterflies that erupted in my stomach at the sound of his voice, at the sight of him so close to me. I found myself wanting not only a cuter change of clothes, but something else, something I couldn't quite put my finger on. . . .

I stumbled backwards, turning suddenly and walking over to the area where pianos were set up. "Yeah," I said matter-of-factly, attempting to cover up the anxiety I felt, "my dad has a '65 Mustang. It's that nice teal, with the white pick guard. I prefer it over every other guitar I've ever touched." I turned around, feeling just ready enough to face Matty again.

He had that look on his face -- the same one from when he was hungover and in my basement. His eyes didn't waver as they remained trained directly on me. He smiled at me smugly, almost as if he had a secret I wasn't privileged enough to know. I wish I could figure out exactly what he was thinking, but it was too much of a battle for me to try to get inside his head. And anyway, I wasn't sure if I wanted to know what he felt about me. . . .

"I feel the same way," he said softly, and it took me a couple flustered seconds to realize he was talking about the guitars.

I fiddled around on the piano in front of me, a couple chords coming out right and a couple of songs from when I took lessons coming out wrong.

"I didn't know you were into music," Matty said, turning an amp on and plugging in a blue Mustang identical to the one I had just described.

"That's bullshit," I said with a smirk as I stopped playing the piano and sat on a stool near Matty. "I talked about it all the time when we were growing up. You totally knew. Unless you paid zero attention all the times our friends forced us to be in the same room together."

He shrugged. "I guess I had other things on my mind back then." After a second of double checking the levels on the amp and guitar to make sure it was quiet, he started finger-picking simple chords on guitar. They weren't anything special -- they were the same four I'd learned when my dad first started teaching me how to play -- but they sounded wonderful. Or maybe I was just delusional from the lack of oxygen, considering the fact that I had trouble breathing as he looked up at me, still playing, his curly hair falling in front of his eyes.

Fuck, why was he so charming? I watched his walls break down with the lock on the shop door, finally letting me in. And I couldn't help but start to actually enjoy being with the real Matty, even if I had to force my way in.

Matty didn't open his mouth to sing along with the guitar, but I almost wished he did. Somehow, I was afraid if he were to sing, it would be honest. And if he was singing honest words, I might have to speak my own. I was in no way prepared for that.

Eventually, he seemed to get bored of the same four chords and he stood up with a loud sigh. "Okay, are you ready to go?"

I shrugged. "Yeah, sure."

As if it was a perfectly normal thing to do, Matty put the guitar back on the wall, stuck the turned off the power on the amp, and left the store, locking back up the same place we had just broken into.

Walking back down the street, we didn't talk much. In fact, we were both pretty quiet. But unlike the silence in the car that was full of tension and anger, this silence was peaceful, almost calming. I enjoyed this kind of silence.

Matty's hand brushed against mine as we made our way under the rusted streetlamps. At first, I was convinced it was just the way we were moving as we walked that made our hands touch. But then it happened again. And his hand lingered against mine for longer than I expected but not longer than I wanted.

And there it was again. The butterflies. THe feeling that just maybe I felt something. . . .

I stumbled away from him, trying to make it look like it was 100% on accident, like I just wasn't paying attention and tripped on my own feet. Matty got the memo, though. He quickly stuffed his hands in his pockets. He didn't comment on it, he just kept moving forward, looking down at his black shoes. So I didn't bring it up either. Instead, we just walked back to the motel, Matty eventually pulling out a cigarette and smoking silently.

A/N: Oooooh what's gonna happen next?? ;) Silly El with her frustrating feelings. I think we all ship it. Shout out to Chelsea__Marie for the comments, you're the best! Everyone, thanks for the votes and adds and comments, I love reading them <3 xx Sadie