𝐍𝐎𝐍-𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒

How can I relate to somebody who doesn't speak?

"Oh, shit, you're the one who beated me at Guitar Hero at Bea's!" George exclaimed looking at Keith.

Keith seemed confused, and I wasn't surprised, he was so wasted that night. I tried to give him a hint. "Beadoo...beabe... God, her name is so fucking long. Anyway, the girl who invited us to her birthday. Remember? We didn't even have a present..."

"Oh, right!" Keith exclaimed. "Honestly, mate, I was so drunk that night I don't even remember playing Guitar Hero. But I don't doubt I beated you. Not to flatter myself, but I'm king of Guitar Hero"

George snorted: "What? You cheated"

"How can I cheat at Guitar Hero?"

"You did, mate. I was about to win when your friend jumped off the coach to throw up and you told him he couldn't make it to the bathroom and he panicked and he thew up on my shoes"

"I think Alex told me this story" I hummed.

"What does it have to do with the game? It's not my fault my friend got sick on your shoes, mate. Just accept defeat"

"It wasn't fair play and you know it or I would have won"

"Well, George, if you were good with guitar you wouldn't play the drum in our band" Matty turned his head to me. "I think George and Keith have things to sort out. We should leave them alone"

And saying that, we parted ways from our friends. Matty put his arm around my neck as we walked through the backstage, his fingers playing with the thin shoulder strap of my top. I knew that if he had rested his hand there, where the thin material touched my collarbone, he would have heard my heartbeat and wondered if I was about to die of cardiac arrest.

Everything now was different because we had sex. Perhaps not for him - he didn't look uneasy like me, fuck he was humming one of my songs, which made my heart beat even faster. But I knew everything was different. We were in that grey zone in which you don't know yet what kind of relationship is coming out of the sex. And I was in that limbo in which I didn't know if it was worst if he wanted nothing more than that (great fear of rejection) or if he actually wanted something more (great fear of commitment).

"What's on your mind?", he tilted his head and whispered in my ear. He was growing a stubble and that, plus his low silky voice were enough to give me chills and I couldn't help the little, coy giggle that came out of my mouth.

"Matty, don't", I begged him weakly.

"What, exactly? Whisper in your ear?" The hand around my shoulder slid to my waist, pressing our bodies closer, and I didn't know how I was still able to walk. "Touch you?". I swallowed, my white top suddenly tight around my body, my breasts about to rip the fabric with every short exhale as the air filled my lungs. "What's making you so nervous?", he asked, so satisfied.

You. You, menace.

I found the strength, reluctantly, to take his hand off my body. "All of it", I sighed. We were now standing in front of each other and I was suddenly conscious of people's looks on us. "We're in public"

He smiled briefly and shrugged. "If you think that's inappropriate you don't know what else I'd dare to do to you while everyone's watching"

I knew my eyes were ridiculously wide and my lips parted, not surrounding any word. He slid his finger under my chin and applied a little pressure to close my mouth, not without a smirk on his amused face.

"You know, for someone who wants to play the role of the heartbreaker, it's quite easy to make you blush", he said.

"I just -", I started, but had to give myself a second to order my thoughts and sedate my feelings. "I just want to keep a low profile", I continued, trying to sound as calm as possible.