The other three boys were nowhere to be found, so Matty and I left. He told the bartender to tell them we went home if he saw them, and began the walk home. Well, Matty's home. His arm was wrapped around my shoulders, keeping me steady. I was at the point of being drunk that I could pass out at any moment, so he made sure that I wouldn't end up back in the bathroom with not-George again. It wasn't cold, but it wasn't warm , either. It was starting to become fall, which was one of my favorite and also least favorite seasons. It was pretty and everything looked very orange, which reminded me of the sunrise. The only thing was, was that the clouds often covered the sky, so I couldn't see the sunrise. Those were the worst days. My mood matched the dark sky and cold weather. I've never liked the cold, and it constantly made my mood sour.
Matty pulled me closer to him, taking me out of my thoughts.
I felt... safe with Matty. Even though we were both intoxicated, I still felt safe around him. I felt protected.
We arrived at Matty's flat not long after leaving the bar. I was still drunk, and so was Matty, but he seemed to have sobered up just a little bit. He seemed scared half to death when I had disappeared and so relieved when the lilac girl brought me back. I wonder why she helped me. She could have been having fun dancing with her friends or drinking the night away but instead she decided to help me get away from some creep in the bathroom and make sure I was safe. I was grateful for her.
Matty still had me under his grip, making sure that I wouldn't trip over anything or hurt myself. He guided me towards a bedroom that I assume was his, and sat me down on the bed.
"You can sleep here, I'll sleep on the couch. " He said. "Are you comfortable sleeping in what you're wearing or do you want to borrow something?"
I pulled on my shirt, the light gray fabric stretching over my fingertips.
"I don't like this shirt." I pouted, stretching it even more.
"You can borrow one of mine then, just don't ruin your shirt."
He rummaged through his drawers until he found a plain black shirt and a pair of red plaid pyjama pants. Handing them to me, he left the room, leaving me to get changed.
I got dressed into Matty's clothes and looked at myself in the mirror, laughing at the sight. His shirt was so big on me it could practically be a dress, and my feet got lost in the pants. I tried to roll them up, but it was uncomfortable, so I rolled them back down. I stuck my feet out of the foot holes and the red plaid print bunched up awkwardly on my legs. After struggling with the some more, I decided to take them off and wear Matty's shirt as a nightgown.
Opening his bedroom door, I shuffled out into the living room, holding onto the wall for support. He was sitting on the couch with his phone in his hands, probably texting the boys saying that we weren't dead or kidnapped.
I giggled and Matty turned to face me.
"Your hair is so curly."
Stumbling over to him, I pat his head.
"Where are your pants?" He asked, standing from his place on the couch.
"They're not comfy. I wanna wear this dress." I giggled again.
He seemed unsure of what to do, but guided me back to his room. He moved the sheets back so I could get under the covers and laid me down, pulling the blanket over me.
He started to leave the room, but I protested.
"Where are you going?"
Matty stopped in the doorway, turning to face me.
"I'm going to sleep on the couch."
"No, stay with me." I whined.
I could see the gears turning in his head, debating if he should stay or not.
Without a word, he closed the door and walked towards the bed. He took off his shirt and laid down on the opposite side of me. I sighed in content and smiled.
"Thanks for staying."
Even though the room was dark, I could still see him nod his head.
"You sure are a giggly drunk." He said.
I laughed.
"Because you're funny with your curly head."
Matty laughed and I echoed him.
We fell silent; a comfortable silence. I listened to the cars driving by outside and tried to focus my eyes on the dark room. I couldn't see much, but it wasn't anything particularly special. Much nicer than mine was, at least.
"What did you mean by you don't want to become like your dad?" Matty asked, breaking the silence.
I stared up at the ceiling, thinking of what to say.
"I don't want to be a drunk. I don't want to drink my life away and build up all my anger until it finally explode out onto someone I love. I don't want to hurt people that I love when they're done nothing wrong. I don't want to hurt them."
He stayed silent.
"Is that what those bruises are from?"
I nodded.
"You didn't leave home to live your dream, did you? You ran away from your dad?"
I nodded again.
Silence fell between us for the second time that night.
"Why didn't you leave sooner? I mean, you're an adult, you can make your own decisions, so why not leave?"
I sighed.
"Because I was afraid. I was afraid of what he'd do if he ever found me, if he caught me trying to escape. I was afraid of what he would do if he came home one day and saw that his punching bag was gone. I was afraid of him hurting me worse than ever before. I am afraid of him hurting me."
Matty didn't speak, he shuffled towards me and wrapped his arms around me in a comforting way.
"Why didn't you call the police?"
"I was too scared that he'd get out and kill me when he found me."
We laid in silence, listening to the white noise of London's nightlife.
"Please don't let him hurt me."
Matty hugged me closer to him.
"I won't."
My eyes fluttered open to an unfamiliar room, dimly lit by sunlight. My head pounded and I reached up to hold my head, but my arms were stopped by another pair. Looking down, I saw arms wrapped around my waist, holding me tightly to the owner's chest. Suddenly, my headache wasn't a big deal anymore.
Careful not to wake them, I turned to see who the arms belonged to. Matty was peacefully sleeping next to me, his mess of curls sprawled out over the pillow. My breathing stopped as I realized his lack of shirt. I gently pried his arms from around me and noticed that I wasn't wearing any pants, or even my own shirt.
Did we... oh my god what if we did
I looked back at Matty, still sound asleep. I cringed at the thought. God, if we had, I had no idea what I was doing and it was probably sloppy and drunk and dear god I hope we hadn't.
I found a pile of my clothes near the end of the bed and searched through my pockets, trying to find my phone.
I stood from my clothes empty handed and searched around the room. My phone was nowhere to be seen.
I quietly opened the door, making sure to not wake Matty, and ventured into the rest of the apartment. Matty's flat was actually fairly nice. It wasn't very decorated, but I liked it. I walked into the lounge, finding my phone on the coffee table. Picking it up, I saw the time.
6:23am.
I woke up a lot earlier than I usually do. I nearly missed the sunrise.
Speaking of things I missed, I had 5 missed calls from George and 7 more text messages.
Where are you? Have you seen Matty?
Hayley? Are you alright?
I haven't seen you since the bathroom, are you okay?
I really hope you didn't get kidnapped
Hayley please answer
Are you with Matty? I haven't seen him all night either
I hope you're okay
I read through the text messages, trying to recall the night before. What even happened? I thought I said I wasn't getting drunk?
The headache from a few minutes before became more prominent, making me groan and hold my head in my hands.
"Hangover?"
I jumped at Matty's voice from behind me.
"Yeah."
He shuffled into the kitchen and left me alone again, trying not to think about the possibilities of what could have happened last night.
I stood from the couch and followed Matty into the kitchen, where he was making coffee. His hair was messy and his pyjama pants hung lowly on his hips, one side falling down more than the other. He turned to face me with two mugs full of hot coffee and I quickly looked away from him, trying to seem like I wasn't staring.
"Thank you." I said, taking a cup from him and sipping it. It burned my tongue, but I didn't care. As long as the headache went away.
We leaned against the countertop and drank our coffee in silence, both too lost in thought for conversation. My head was still pounding away, no matter how much of the burning liquid I drank, but what did I expect? It wasn't a magical cure for hangovers, it just helps.
My mind trailing back to waking up next to Matty and the fact that I wasn't wearing my own clothes, I thought of how to ask what really happened last night.
"So... Did we... Um.." I trailed off, not sure on how to put it.
"We didn't have sex if that's what you're asking. I told you that you could sleep in my bed and I'd take the couch, but you insisted on me staying."
I looked down at myself, realizing my pants were still in his bedroom.
"What happened to my clothes?"
"You said you were uncomfortable in what you were wearing, so I let you borrow some of mine." He explained.
I nodded and sipped my coffee again. It wasn't as hot now, it was warmer than room temperature, but not scalding hot either.
"I can't remember anything from last night." I stated.
Matty laughed.
"You were hammered. And you said you wouldn't drink."
Yeah... I did say I wasn't going to get drunk... Even if I did only have one drink, that wouldn't have gotten me hammered
"Come on, let's get another drink." He said, scooting me out of the booth and pulling me towards the bar.
"No, Matty I said I wasn't going to get drunk." I said, trying to pull my arm back.
"Why not?" He stopped and turned around to face me.
I started to explain, but stopped myself. He can't know about my father. They all think I came here by choice to live my dream, not be a runaway. They'd probably tell me to get lost if they knew I was a runaway. Trying to come up with an excuse, I bit the inside of my cheek.
"I..."
He probably won't remember anything in the morning anyway, I might as well tell him while he's intoxicated and too lost from the alcohol to actually process what I'm saying.
"I don't want to end up like my father. He was a drunk, and wasn't exactly always kind."
I told Matty about my father. How much does he know? Did I tell him everything? Does he know about the abuse? The alcohol, the everything?
I started to panic, hoping I had stopped myself there.
"What do you know about my father?" I asked, not looking at him.
I saw him turn his head towards me out of the corner of my eye, then look up to the ceiling.
"Everything."
I closed my eyes and silently cursed myself.
Of course I did.
"Then you know that I have nowhere to live?"
"You didn't tell me that."
The one thing he didn't know, I just admitted. Nice one, Hayley.
"Nope, I have nowhere to go. I left my home in Manchester to come live in London with no place to live, no money, and no friends. I had no plan and I still don't."
Matty stayed quiet.
I sighed, setting my cup on the counter behind me, pacing the kitchen with my hands tangled into my hair.
"I don't know what I'm going to do."
I turned away from Matty, my hands still firmly in my hair. I felt like screaming. I felt so vulnerable and weak.
"You can stay with me."
I spun around, looking at Matty with wide eyes.
"What?"
"You can stay with me. I'll let you live here until you find a place of your own."
My mouth hung open in shock.
He's letting a girl he's barely met love with him in his house? I could be a murderer or a drug addict or anything, and he's letting me stay?
"Really?" I whispered.
He nodded.
"What else am I supposed to do, let you live in the streets?"
A smile broke out onto my face and I ran over to him, engulfing him into a hug.
"Thank you. So, so much."
Where would I be without you?