stripper killer [matty healy]

twenty three - swear

swear:(verb) make a solemn statement or promise undertaking to do something or affirming that something is the case.

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india

me and harry we're walking home from what could possibly be the best date in the history when my phone buzzes - interrupting our conversation.

matty: india, phone me. it's desperately important.

my stomach drops at his use of words, and apparently - so did my face.

"everything okay?" harry asks, his thumb rubbing gently over my own while we hold hands.

"mhm." i nod. "i'm fine." and i shove my phone back in my pocket. it will just have to wait.

we walk the rest of the way in silence, which didn't help the ever growing guilty feeling in the pit of my stomach. i'm ignoring him for harry. but that's not too bad. i convince myself. me and matty are just friends.

"oh, look, a lift!" i nudge harry playfully as we walk in. he just smiles and hits the second floor button. "you were such a dick in here those times." i roll my eyes, leaning against the hard wooden walls.

"you liked it though, didn't you?"

i lift my head up to meet his stare. a devilish smirk was spread across his features.

"i did not." i hiss, folding my arms across my chest defensively - trying to hold back a smile.

"lies." he chuckles, just before the doors open. "after you."

i walk down the corridor to my door, before turning and pressing my back against it. harry places a hand next to my head to lean. i reach out and swipe the beanie from his head, unleashing his curly hair. "argh, no!" he groans. "bad hair day."

i tilt my head and examine it. it was wild. curls flowing in every direction all the way down past his chin. "i don't think so." i whisper, lifting my hand and twirling a curl around my index finger. he doesn't say anything. he just stares at me intently from inches away, as i do the same. his eyes occupy me completely. they could do for hours. i think i could sit and memorise every single shade of green in them and never get bored.

"what're you thinking?" he finally speaks. his voice is barely above a whisper. it sounds even huskier due to our close proximity.

"i was just thinking..." i stop twirling his hair and run my whole hand through it, clenching my fist. "about how bad i want you to kiss me."

he almost growls at my words, slamming his body against mine aggressively - earning an excited giggle from me. only, he cuts me off with his mouth, brushing his tongue against my lower lip while his hands stroke down my body, then gripping my hips.

"i want to fuck you again" he rushes his words, before kissing me again, harder. "now."

my hand desperately searches for the door handle, shaking it vigorously before I remember. it's locked.

fuck.

i don't want to stop kissing him - but i don't want to have to wait any longer before ripping his clothes off. "harry.." i mumble mid kiss. "harry, stop a second"

he pulls away looking confused. his lips were pink and swollen. it made me just want to pounce on him. focus india! i reach into my pocket and grab my keys, unlocking the door as quick as i can with shaking hands.

before i know it were inside and harry's hands are all over me again, shedding off my coat, removing my tshirt and ripping off my bra.

"fuck" he moans into my neck as his hands grab at my chest.