Matty eventually manages to drift off for a bit, but it's a restless and troubled slumber, filled with odd dreams that feel much too real, all of them featuring George in some way or form. After finding himself wide awake for the third time in barely two hours, Matty gives up on shut-eye entirely, slipping free from the sheets as silently as possible so as not to disturb George who is still out cold.
Matty isn't entirely sure why, but he ends up outside, wrapping George's jean jacket which he had retrieved on the way around his skinny frame to protect his skin from the cold, although he still shivers underneath the fabric when a strong breeze rushes by.
Matty settles himself at the edge of George's wide porch and pulls out his packs of cigarettes. George doesn't mind if he smokes inside, not unless he's recently been on one of his random cleaning sprees in which he sprays everything with air freshener and bans all form of tobacco and weed, which rarely lasts a week before George breaks his own rule himself.
Matty smiles to himself as he flips on the fairy lights he strung around the railing ages ago. George had grumbled the entire time Matty had spent setting them up of course, but he hasn't removed them even though he's had plenty of opportunities to do so. Matty's convinced that he secretly enjoys the soft ambiance, or maybe he just leaves them there for Matty's sake whenever he stops by - that would be a very George-like thing to do.
Matty wonders if it's sort of odd how everything reminds him of George, or brings up some George related memory, but it can't be that strange. He is in George's flat after all, and throughout almost his entire life, George has been by his side, so it makes sense, at least to Matty it does.
A part of Matty wishes George had noticed his absence and followed him out here, which is in complete juxtaposition to how he had reacted earlier when George had found him in the bathroom, but still - Matty is feeling oddly melancholy at the moment, and he isn't too keen on being left alone with the kind of thoughts that earlier mornings bereft of sunsets bring about.
Matty has no reason to be sad, and he isn't really sure that is an accurate label for his emotions at the moment. He's just off, disconnected in that sort of way that leaves him unsettled and shaken. He doesn't think this is caused by Gemma - not this time, in fact, it might not have any roots at all.
Matty gets in these moods from time to time. Sometimes they turn into productive songwriting sessions, and others - like right now involve him smoking too many cigarettes and holding back the urge to cry while he tries to discover what he is producing tears over.
Tilting his head back, Matty stares at the sky, attempting to ignore the way the colored canvas seems to be pressing down around him, threatening to crush him if he fails to keep moving, but Matty doesn't have the strength to do that at the moment.
Despite the ominous nature of the atmosphere, Matty enjoys the particular shade it is right now. The blue is soft and dark all at once, shifting and changing wherever he looks but somehow appearing matte all at the same time.
Maybe their next album could be colored in such a fashion, highlighting all of the different variances with each song, but no - as lovely as that idea sounds, it doesn't resonate correctly within him.
Matty has barely started working on it, so he could easily change his mind, but he already has some lyrics he plans on using, as well as the titles for a few songs swimming around in his brain, and the theme of the album needed something brighter - more shocking. Pink is a possibility, that would be an ironic contrast to the black and white persona they had displayed on their last record.
Yes - pink seemed to fit well, a vibrant shade, maybe fluorescent even, a synthetic color that can appear fake and tarty but also shows itself in natural venues like a blush or a slip of the tongue.
And of course, thinking of things like blushes and tongues brings Matty back to the one topic he is steadfastly trying to avoid - George.
Determined to reach the root of whatever is bothering him, Matty doesn't force himself to change subjects this time, allowing recollections of last night to pour back over him as he debates on what to do now that he has taken the first step into what could be a very foolish endeavor, or quite possibly something that would allow him to become more comfortable with himself and his sexuality, which is a topic that Matty has never been entirely sure of.
Matty's been accused of being gay on more occasions than he can count on one hand, mostly because of his style, but he was never the epitome of a straight male. He remembers how he used to rile people up in school, joking with bullies about how he wanted to suck their cock just to get a reaction out of them, calling them baby and sweetie to throw them off, which had automatically labeled him as less than straight, not that Matty had ever really minded, although he had assumed he was only interested in girls until recently.
Matty's never been with a man, but not because he wouldn't consider it. It just never happened, and he does like girls - he like girls a hell of a lot, but lately he's been noticing how pretty some boys look, occasionally ignoring a lovely pair of tits to admire a bloke with gorgeous eyes or a pouty mouth, although that could just be his inclination for appreciating beautiful things instead of any real attraction.
Matty has noticed this subtle shift for quite some time now, but he always forces himself to ignore it, pushing the thoughts to the back of his mind until they get buried underneath everything else he keeps contained in his head, but now he knows he won't be able to avoid them, not even if he ends this thing with George and never touches another man again.
And Matty doesn't want to do that, because he liked the kiss, and George didn't do anything wrong. Matty just panicked - that's all, maybe because it was too soon after Gemma, maybe because he was pissed, maybe because he didn't think that a causal snog with his best friend would turn into the best kiss he ever had.
Still - Matty hasn't received an answer on if he might be bisexual or whatever, because kissing George was amazing, but he was drunk, and plenty of people snog blokes when they're trashed but would never take it any further. Matty isn't sure how he'll react to a sexual situation that involves a cock that isn't his own, but he'd be lying if he said the thought doesn't have his blood thrumming slightly in his chilled veins.
As far as Matty sees things, he has two choices: either pretend the kiss never happened and let everything fall back into place naturally, or else keep going, pursue whatever this is until he's certain about his sexuality or he becomes too uncomfortable to continue.
His natural instinct is to press onward, because he can't think of anyone better to do this with than George, but at the same time - he's the problem.
George means the world to Matty, and Matty is struggling with viewing him now that he's cast himself in this new light. He doesn't recognize this George who can take his breath away with a touch of his lips, or who can produce a blush on his cheeks without even trying. It's unsettling, especially since George is basically Matty's foundation, and now that steady surface is shifting underneath his feet and his mind is reeling as he tries to keep up with the tremors.
Their kiss held so much more meaning than it should have, but in all honesty, it's probably just because Matty over-analyzes everything, or he could be fabricating stronger emotions into this casual affair as an effect of his relationship with Gemma. It's been barely a week since Gem left him after all, so Matty might have been projecting leftover sensations he felt with her onto George. It's not like Matty's over her yet - that's for certain, and he probably won't be for quite a while. George is simply an easy distraction from the ache in his chest that makes itself known whenever Matty dwells on her for too long, he's not a replacement, not even close.
Matty quickly becomes frustrated with himself and his circling contradictions and queries, because this isn't like him. Matty's always prided himself on being impulsive, and yes - on occasion that particular trait has landed him in some deep shit, but it's also provided him with opportunities that he would have never been given if he hadn't leaped into something he was unsure about.
And really - what's the worst thing that could happen? George has promised that he can back out at any time, so if things begin to turn sour between them, or if Matty freaks out again, he can simply end this and have a good laugh about it with his best mate.
As long as Matty can stop himself from reading into every subtle emotion that George may or may not produce, he should be fine. This is George after all - his best friend, his bandmate, and this whole thing isn't that odd. They are already overly affection for being simple mates, and Matty is confident that he can keep whatever illicit things that occur between them separate from their relationship they've always had. He was simply caught off guard last night, but now that he's worked through things, he knows without a doubt that he wants to push forward with this.
Feeling slightly better after his fifth cigarette and some much-needed contemplation, Matty grinds out the smoking embers in the conveniently placed ashtray resting to his left before dusting off his trousers and heading back inside with a much lighter head.
He falls asleep almost as soon as his head hits the pillow this time, burrowing into George's side just like always, because nothing is going to change, Matty will do everything in his power to make sure of that.
I have nothing to say besides I love you all xxx
- starr