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allisonclairee · 4 months ago

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OHH YUPPPP FOR SURE MY FAVORITE PARTTTTT I LOVE THEMMMM AND YOU SNOWYYYY 💗💗

Fire & Desire - Matt Sturniolo Part 16

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16

Pairing: Y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary: Y/n has always clashed with Matt. Despite working for Chris’s clothing brand and being close with Nick, her relationship with Matt has always been tense at best. While being forced to be around each other more, their animosity turns into something deeper. Can they overcome their differences, or will their fiery emotions tear them apart?

Warnings: angst, tension, being drunk, emetophobia warning, vomiting

The walk back to the bar is painfully awkward. I keep a few steps ahead of Matt, my arms still crossed tightly over my chest, trying to comfort the sharp sting of rejection settling deep there. My legs move on their own, faster than they should in the sand, putting distance between me and Matt. I can hear him behind me, his footsteps a little slower, like he’s debating whether to say something.

But he doesn’t say a word.

Every step I take feels heavier, like the weight of what just happened is trying to pull me down into the sand. God I wished it was quick sand and would just swallow me whole. I keep walking, pushing forward, pretending that I don’t care. That it didn’t just happen. That it doesn’t matter.

I step off the beach and onto the pavement in my bare feet, not wanting to even say a word to Matt to get my shoes back. I see Nick, Chris, and Nate are standing outside the bar, still buzzing, drinks in their hands. They don’t notice me right away, but when they do, Nick’s face twists in confusion.

“Where the hell did you guys go?” His eyes dart between me and Matt, who’s still a few steps behind, still silent.

I clear my throat, trying to sound normal. “Just for a walk. I’m not feeling great.”

Nick’s brow furrows looking down at my bare feet. He doesn’t look convinced. But I don’t care.

“I’m going back to the villa” I add quickly, just wanting to escape. “I just.. I need to sleep.”

There’s a quick moment of silence.

Matt finally steps up beside me, still holding my heels, still not saying a word.

Nick tilts his head, looking between the two of us. His voice is softer this time. “You sure you’re good?”

I nod too fast. “Yeah.”

“You’re not going back alone.” His tone shifts, final. “We’re all trashed anyway. Let’s just head back.”

Chris groans, tipping his head back. “Bro, I was just about to get another drink-”

“You can drink at the villa” Nick snaps, already waving down a taxi. He turns back to me. “You’re really okay?”

I nod again, it feels like I might shatter if I do anything else.

A white taxi van pulls up to the curb, and instantly we’re all climbing in. I slide in first, sitting myself into the window seat of the back row like I can disappear into it. Matt hesitates before getting in next to me. The tension between us thick.

Chris and Nate slump into the middle row, both too drunk to care about whatever tension is crackling behind them between Matt and I. Nick takes the front seat, giving the driver the villa’s address.

We pull away from the bar, the neon lights blurring past the window. The silence is unbearable.

My fingers curl against my thighs. I refuse to look at Matt.

He shifts beside me. His arm brushes against mine, just for a second, before he pulls away.

He still has my heels in his lap.

I don’t say a word.

The taxi driver is weaving through the streets like he’s got nothing to lose, and honestly, it’s not helping. My stomach is already in knots, and every sharp turn makes it worse. I close my eyes, hoping to steady myself, but that only amplifies the spinning. The whole world tilts, and suddenly, I know, this is bad.

I’m going to be sick.

The moment the taxi pulls up to the villa, I don’t waste a second. I push the seat down infront of me and open the door, nearly tripping as I stumble out onto the pavement. My legs barely carry me forward as I break into a wobbly run.

I need to get to my room.

I bust through the villa's front door, making a beeline for the stairs. I hear voices behind me, Nick calling my name, Chris laughing drunkenly about something, Nate asking if I’m good, but I can’t focus on any of them. My vision is blurred, my feet feel like they might give out under me, I can feel myself getting hotter as my mouth starts to fill with saliva. I don’t even bother shutting the door behind me as I bolt into my room.

The ensuite is barely within reach before I collapse to my knees. My stomach flips violently, and then I’m gone, kneeling over the toilet, purging every ounce of alcohol and regret from my system.

The room is spinning. My hands are gripping the cold porcelain toilet bowl, knuckles white. I can hear footsteps approaching, but I don’t have the energy to turn and see who it is.

I just want this feeling to stop.

I feel someone crouch down nearby. A hand gently pulls my hair back, sweeping it away from my face, holding it steady as I brace myself over the toilet. My body shudders with the force of another wave of nausea, and I squeeze my eyes shut, mortified.

“It’s okay” a familiar voice coos.

Matt.

I grip the edge of the toilet, trying to ground myself as my breathing evens out. My entire body feels weak, drained, and humiliated all at once. I shake my head, not even sure what I’m trying to say. Maybe go away, maybe stay, maybe why are you even here?

Matt doesn’t say anything else for a moment. He just rubs slow circles on my back, a comforting touch I didn’t know I needed.

When I finally dare to lift my head, I can see him in my peripheral. His brows are drawn together, concern showing across his features. He looks like he wants to say something but holds back.

“I’ll get you some water” he finally says, voice soft.

I don’t have the strength to argue. I nod weakly, my throat too raw to respond. I rest my forehead against the cool tiled wall to the side as he disappears.

A few minutes later, he’s back, putting a cold water bottle into my hands. I take a sip, the freezing liquid combating the acidic taste in my mouth. “Thanks” I mumble quietly, and he just nods, sitting down on the floor beside me, resting his arms on his knees.

I continue to get sick until there’s nothing left, my body trembling from the exhaustion of it all. My breathing is heavy, ragged, and my limbs feel impossibly weak. All I need now is bed. Just somewhere warm and steady to escape the spinning.

I try to stand, gripping onto the edge of the counter for balance, but the second I move, my legs betray me. The room tilts violently, and I stumble, bracing for the inevitable fall to the ground.

But it never comes.

Instead, Matt’s arms catch me, lifting me effortlessly into the air. I barely register what’s happening as Matt carries me out of the bathroom, his grip secure but careful, like I might break. My head lays against his chest, my body too drained to protest.

He gently places me on the edge of my bed, and before I can even process what’s happening, he’s pulling a soft t-shirt over my head, guiding my arms through the sleeves. His touch is firm but delicate, careful to keep my dignity intact as he covers me up, replacing the skimpy outfit I went out in.

I let out a frustrated sigh, suddenly aware of how gross I feel. “My makeup..” I mumble, my voice barely above a whisper.

Matt crouches in front of me, his eyes scanning my face before nodding. “Where’s your remover?”

I motion weakly toward my nightstand, and without hesitation, he grabs it, along with some cotton pads. He crouches onto his knees in front of me, then pours some micellar water onto a pad, and begins to wipe away my makeup. His touch is impossibly gentle, his fingers grazing my skin as he works in silence.

The intimacy of it all makes my chest tighten. I should be telling him to stop, that I can do it myself, not that I’m actually capable of it right now, but I don’t. I just sit there, letting him take care of me in a way that feels.. different. Unfamiliar, yet not unwelcome.

When he’s finished, he tosses the used cotton pads into the bin next to us and leans back slightly, studying me. The weight of his gaze makes me shift uncomfortably, embarrassment creeping in.

“I’m sorry” I whisper, my voice hoarse. “For being this drunk. For.. all of it.”

Matt shakes his head, his expression softening. “Don’t be.”

“But it’s-”

“It’s fine” he interrupts, his voice firm but kind. “You had a good night. You just had a little too much. It happens.”

I bite my lip, still feeling the humiliation settle deep in my bones. “It’s just.. embarrassing.”

Matt exhales, a small smirk playing at his lips. “You think this is embarrassing? Did we tell you the last time we were here Chris got so drunk he tried to fight a palm tree because he thought it was ‘looking at him funny.’”

I can’t help it. I let out a small, breathy laugh.

“There it is” Matt murmurs, his smirk growing. “Knew I’d get you to smile.”

I roll my eyes, but the warmth in my chest stays.

For a while, we just sit there in silence. The tension from earlier still lingers between us, thick and unspoken. I should be angry at him, for rejecting me, for making me feel stupid, but right now, his presence is the only thing steady around me, and I can’t bring myself to push him away.

Matt hovers for a moment, his eyes scanning my face like he’s making sure I’m really okay. I feel the weight of exhaustion pressing down on me, my body sinking into the mattress. Matt adjusts the bed covers on to me, making sure im comfortable.

He exhales, standing up. “Get some sleep” he says softly. His voice is low, careful, like he doesn’t want to startle me.

I nod weakly, already feeling my eyelids grow heavier. I watch as he walks to the door, pausing just before stepping out. For a second, I think he might say something else, but instead, he just looks back at me before quietly slipping out of the room.

The second he’s gone, I exhale, releasing a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. My body melts into the bed, the alcohol still buzzing faintly in my system, but the exhaustion outweighs it now.

The next morning I’m woken up by my phone next to me buzzing. It's a message. From Matt.

Matt: Let me know when you're awake

Oh no.

What have I done? My face heats up. Does he want to talk about something? My mind races as I reply.

Me: Just woke up there, what's up?

And then nothing. For 20 mins I anticipate something, but nothing. I can't even bring myself to move from bed to figure out what it is because I'm that hungover. I have to shut my eyes due to the pounding headache I have, which in turn, leads me to drift back off to sleep for further 10 mins until I'm woken again by my phone buzzing.

Matt: Check outside your bedroom door

What is he talking about? I mumble to myself. It takes everything in me to get out of bed and walk to the door. I open it and see nothing infront of me, until I look down and there sits a chocolate milkshake. Then my phone buzzes again.

Matt: I remember someone telling me you liked a milkshake after drinking

A small, tired smile tugs at my lips as I bend down to pick up the milkshake. The condensation from the plastic cup chills my fingers, and the sweet, chocolatey scent immediately makes my stomach growl, despite the hangover nausea still lingering.

I take a sip, the cold drink soothing my throat and my stomach. I let out a quiet sigh. The gesture is so simple, yet it makes my chest feel weirdly warm.

I exhale, flopping back onto my bed. What is he doing? After last night, I’d half expected him to avoid me completely. To act like nothing happened. But this.. this feels like something.

Before I can overthink it, I send him a reply.

Me: Thanks, Matt. That was sweet.

This time, his reply comes almost instantly.

Matt: Don’t get used to it.

I roll onto my back, staring at the ceiling, my mind still clouded with needing sleep and the remnants of alcohol. Last night, he pulled away. Last night, he rejected me. And now.. now he’s leaving me hangover cures outside my door like he has some kind of guilty conscience? I’m not sure how to take it. But one thing I will take, is how well this milkshake is going down. I finish it off before falling into yet another nap.

I end up staying in bed for the rest of the day, drifting in and out of sleep, and by the quietness of the villa, Chris and Nate must have too. It wasn't until 7pm that I managed to drag myself downstairs. I followed the sound of voices and found the four boys sitting out on the patio next to the pool.

I step outside, the warm evening air wrapping around me as I make my way toward them. Chris and Nate are slouched in their chairs, looking like they’ve been through hell and back. Nick is sipping water, his sunglasses still on even though the sun is setting. Matt sits next to him, spinning his empty water bottle on the table.

I clear my throat. “So.. how’s everyone feeling?”

Chris groans, running a hand through his messy hair. “Like absolute shit.”

Nate nods in agreement, his head tilted back against the chair. “I swear I almost saw the other side earlier. I don’t know how we drank that much.”

Nick chuckles, stretching his arms over his head. “Well, I had a great day. Me and Matt just chilled by the pool, watching you lot suffer.” He smirks at me. “How about you? You seemed rough this morning.”

I roll my eyes, stepping closer. “Yeah, thanks for that, Nick. I felt rough. Hence the reason I spent the whole day in bed.”

My eyes flick to Matt for a second, but he doesn’t look at me, just keeps spinning the bottle between his fingers.

Chris sighs. “Well, at least we survived.”

Nick groans, “Alright well, I don’t want to waste a night of us being boring. Me and Matt sat around all day while the rest of you were out of commission. We need to do something.”

As he’s talking, Chris suddenly stands up without a word and disappears inside. We all watch him go, but before anyone can question it, he returns moments later, a cold bottle of beer in his hand.

Nate squints at him. “What the hell are you doing?”

Chris twists off the cap with ease, taking a long sip before replying “The cure is the cause.” He smirks. “Only one way to cure a hangover.”

Nate blinks at him for a second, then shrugs. “You know what? That actually makes a weird amount of sense.” He pushes himself up and heads inside, coming back with a beer of his own.

That’s when all eyes land on me.

I raise my brows. “What?”

Nick grins. “You’re up, lightweight.”

I huff, crossing my arms. “I just recovered from last night.”

Chris tilts his head. “Then what’s one more drink?”

Matt finally looks at me, his lips twitching like he’s waiting to see what I’ll do.

I exhale through my nose, shaking my head with a small laugh. “Alright, alright.. Guess I’ll go get myself a drink too.”

I make my way to the kitchen and as I pour myself a vodka lemonade, Nick walks past me, heading upstairs.

"Where are you going?" I ask, watching him disappear up the steps.

"I’ll be back down in a minute" he calls over his shoulder.

I finish making my drink and step back outside, settling into a deck chair across from Matt. I avoid his gaze, the sting of last night’s rejection still fresh. Instead, I focus on the conversation around me, nodding along but barely listening.

Then, Nick returns, a mischievous grin spread across his face.

"Look what I brought!" he announces, holding up a familiar box.

I turn to see Twister in his hands, the same Twister I bought for what ended up being a disastrous game night at his place.

We decide to have a few more drinks before we play the game, to make it that bit more interesting. Nick, self appointed as the ‘Twister master’, lays the mat out on the patio and sits cross legged with the spinner in his lap, grinning like a game show host.

"Alright, degenerates, let's see who’s got the best flexibility."

Chris groans. "If I go down with a pulled muscle, I’m suing."

We all step onto the mat, and Nick spins the board.

"Right hand, red!"

We move into place, the game still innocent for now, just an excuse to laugh as we stretch around each other. Nate nearly falls immediately, making Chris shove him with his shoulder.

"Bro, we just started!" Chris laughs.

"Coordination isn’t my strong suit, remember?" Nate grumbles.

"Left foot, blue!" Nick calls out, and we scramble again, limbs starting to overlap.

It stays lighthearted, Chris and Nate playfully shoving each other, Nick laughing from his spot as he watches the chaos unfold. But then-

"Right hand, green" Nick announces.

Nate groans as he awkwardly stretches over Chris, struggling to reach the spot. "Nick, you’re making this shit up!"

Nick smirks. "I’m just reading what it says, kid. Try not to fall."

We continue twisting and contorting ourselves into ridiculous positions, the occasional accidental bump or brush of skin sending bursts of laughter through the group.

Then comes the moment it all starts to fall apart.

"Left foot red!"

Nate stretches, his foot slipping slightly. "Shit! Shit!"

And then, like a slow motion disaster, he completely loses his balance, his arms flailing before he crashes onto his side, groaning dramatically. "I hate this game."

"First one down!" Nick announces, pointing at him like a referee.

Chris chuckles, shifting his stance. "Better luck next round, bro."

But karma strikes fast.

The next spin forces Chris into an awkward stretch over me, his grip unstable. His foot wobbles, and before he can recover, he tips over, falling onto Nate, who lets out another exaggerated groan.

"Are you serious?" Nate huffs.

"Alright, alright" Chris laughs, rolling off. "I’m out."

That leaves just Matt and I.

The tension shifts instantly.

Nick spins the board again, smirking like he knows exactly what he’s doing. "Right hand yellow."

Matt and I both stretch for the same circle, his arm brushing against mine as we reach. My breath catches for half a second, but I refuse to let it throw me off.

"Left foot blue!"

This time, I have to stretch under him, my back arching awkwardly beneath his body. I can feel the warmth of him hovering just inches above me, his breath fanning against my skin as his horse necklace dangles near my face.

"Comfortable down there?" Matt murmurs, a teasing tone to his voice.

"Shut up and focus" I retort, trying not to sound breathless.

But then comes the next move.

"Right hand red."

It forces Matt to reach over me, his body shifting dangerously off balance. I can feel the slight tremble in his arm as he stretches, his chest practically pressing against mine.

And then-

His arm gives out.

"Fuck!"

Before I can react, he topples forward, and in an instant, his weight sends me down with him.

The fall happens too fast to catch myself, and suddenly, I'm on my back, Matt landing right on top of me. The impact knocks the breath out of me, my hands instinctively gripping onto him to steady myself.

For a moment, everything stills.

We’re tangled together on the mat, my body pinned beneath his, our faces inches apart. His hands brace on either side of me, but he doesn’t move away.

Neither of us speaks.

The laughter that filled the night just moments ago fades into something heavier, something unspoken. His eyes flicker down to my lips before darting away, like he knows he shouldn’t be looking but can’t help himself.

Nick clears his throat dramatically.

"Well that was bound to happen."

Matt instantly pulls away, rolling onto his side, and I quickly sit up, my heart pounding. I avoid his gaze, but I can feel the heat rising to my face.

Chris chuckles from his spot on the ground. "Looks like you both lost that one."

"Yeah, yeah" Matt grumbles, pushing himself up. But I don’t miss the way his hand lingers on my arm for just a second too long before he lets go.

Chris helps me up off the ground. "Yeah, that’s enough damn yoga positions for me tonight" he mutters, shaking his head.

Nate, still sprawled out on the patio like he’s given up on life, waves a dismissive hand. "Agreed. I didn’t sign up for a Twister class, man. I’m done."

Chris nudges him with his foot. "C’mon, Bambi. Let’s get to bed before Nick convinces us to do something else stupid."

Nate grumbles but drags himself up, shooting a glance at Matt and I stood next to each other. He smirks slightly, but thankfully, he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he just shakes his head and follows Chris inside.

With Chris and Nate off to bed, it’s just the three of us left outside. The alcohol has settled in nicely, and there’s a comfortable buzz between us. Nick holds his fresh bottle in his hands, eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Alright losers" he announces. “Since Twister is off the cards it's time for Never Have I Ever. And try not to get too rowdy with it this time, okay?"

"Oh, great" Matt mutters, stretching out on his chair. "Forgot you were the ultimate decider of what games we play”

“Well.. atleast he knows what he wants” I tease, taking a sip of my drink.

Nick grins. "Okay, I’ll start. Never have I ever.. hooked up with someone in this villa."

I scoff and keep my drink firmly in my lap. Matt does the same.

Nick sighs. "Boring.”

I mean I am the only girl in the villa. I’m not too sure what Nick’s trying to play at.

Matt rolls his eyes. “Alright, my turn. Never have I ever.. drunk texted an ex.”

I groan, reluctantly taking a sip while Nick follows suit.

"Oof, who was it?" Matt smirks at me.

"Answers weren’t part of the terms and conditions of this game."

Nick cackles. "She’s dodging. It was definitely tragic."

I throw the decorative pillow underneath me at him.

Nick leans forward, eyes twinkling. "Alright, Y/n, your turn. Make it a good one."

I think for a second before grinning. "Never have I ever.. had a crush on a friend."

Nick drinks immediately. But what catches me off guard is Matt, who lifts his drink and takes a slow sip.

Our eyes meet over the rim of his glass, and for a split second, my heart stumbles. But honestly, with the way Matt can be, I don’t even know if he considers me a ‘friend’.

Nick, of course, doesn’t miss a thing. "Ohhh, now this is interesting."

Matt sets his drink down like it’s nothing, smirking. "What? You said ‘friend.’ That could mean anyone."

Nick narrows his eyes playfully. "Mhm. Sure."

The air feels heavier, something unspoken hanging between Matt and I. I take another sip of my drink, pretending not to overthink it.

"Alright, alright" Nick says, clearly enjoying the tension. "Never have I ever.. wanted to kiss someone in this game."

Silence.

Has Matt told Nick about last night? I guess that means I can't bitch out now..

Matt and I both reach for our drinks at the same time.

Nick gasps, dramatically clutching his chest. "OH! this is too good. You two are messyyyy."

I glance at Matt, and he’s already looking at me, that same unreadable smirk on his lips.

What does this mean?

I take another sip, hoping the alcohol will give me answers.

Nick stretches his arms dramatically, a smug grin plastered on his face. "Well! I think I’ve done enough meddling for one night."

I narrow my eyes at him. He does know what he's doing. "You’re enjoying this way too much."

"Oh, absolutely!" he says, not even trying to deny it. "But don’t worry, I’ll let you two sort yourselves out. No pressure!" His smirk deepens as he stands up.

Has he always been this suspicious? Or has he just picked up on something over the last few days? Either way, he’s definitely enjoying whatever game he thinks is happening.

"Night!" he teases, winking before heading inside and disappearing up the stairs to his room.

And just like that, it’s only me and Matt.

I sip my drink, suddenly hyper aware of the silence stretching between us. I should say something.

But before I can, Matt exhales a quiet chuckle and shakes his head. "Nick’s an idiot."

"Yeah." I agree, but my voice comes out softer than I intend. "But an observant one."

Matt doesn’t say anything at first. Instead, he just looks at me, his expression unreadable but undeniably intense. The kind of look that makes my pulse pick up for reasons I don’t want to acknowledge.

I swallow hard. "Did you actually mean to drink to that last one? Or were you just messing with him?"

Matt tilts his head slightly, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. "What do you think?"

I should’ve expected an answer like that. It’s classic Matt, always keeping me on my toes.

But that’s not what I want right now.

"I don’t know." I say, shaking my head. "I never know with you."

He leans back slightly, resting his arm over the back of the chair, watching me carefully. He doesn’t interrupt, which only makes me want to keep talking.

"It would be nice if you could stop with whatever act you’re playing." The alcohol has fully taken hold now, dragging words out of me that I’d usually swallow down. "I don’t know how you feel. One minute, you act like you can’t stand me. Then you do something nice for me. Then you’re cold again. It’s exhausting, Matt."

Silence.

I hate that he doesn’t respond right away. That unreadable look is back, the one that makes my heart race and frustrates me at the same time. He looks away for a second, running his hand through his hair before finally speaking.

"You really think I hate you?" he asks, his voice quieter now.

I scoff, rolling my eyes. "Well, you don’t exactly make it easy to think otherwise."

His jaw clenches slightly, and for a second, I think I’ve pushed too far. But then he exhales a sharp breath and leans forward, elbows on his knees.

"I don’t hate you" he says, looking at me like he’s daring me to believe him. "Not even close."

The way he says it, the way his voice drops just slightly, it sends something sharp and unexpected through me.

"Then what is it?" I ask, my voice softer now.

Matt studies me for a long moment, like he’s debating whether to say something or just brush it off like he always does.

Then, finally. "It’s complicated."

I let out a dry laugh. "Of course it is."

The air between us is thick now, the tension undeniable. I should leave it at that, let the conversation die out. But I don’t want to. Not tonight.

I meet his eyes, steady despite the way my head is spinning from both the alcohol and his words. "Uncomplicate it, then."

Matt exhales, his fingers drumming against his knee. He doesn’t say anything at first, and that silence only fuels the fire burning in my chest.

"Do you think it’s fair?" I ask, my voice sharper now. "The way you treat me? One day it’s like you never want to speak to me, and then the next, I feel like I’m being led on. And when I finally lean into what I think you’re giving me, you take it back straight away."

His eyes flicker with something, Guilt? Frustration? I can’t tell. He opens his mouth like he’s about to explain himself, but I don’t give him the chance.

"And before you say anything," I cut in, "if you’re about to bring up last night, don’t."

His lips press into a thin line.

"Yeah, Matt. That wasn’t fun. It was more than embarrassing. To be rejected, then have you look after me like that? Do you have any idea how humiliating that was?"

Matt finally meets my gaze, something unreadable in his expression. He’s always so damn hard to read, and I hate it. He swallows, his jaw tightening before he speaks.

"It wasn’t like that" he says, his voice lower now. "I wasn’t trying to-"

"Then what were you trying to do?" I challenge, crossing my arms. "Because I can’t keep playing this game, Matt. It’s messing with my head."

He looks down for a second, rubbing his palms together like he’s trying to find the right words. But I’m tired of waiting for him to figure it out.

"If you don’t want me, just say it."

The words come out more vulnerable than I intend, but I don’t back down.

"If this is all just some joke to you, if I’m reading too much into everything, then tell me. I’d rather know now than keep feeling like an idiot."

His eyes snap back up to mine, and for the first time tonight, I see it, hesitation, conflict. Like he’s fighting something inside himself.

But he still doesn’t say anything.

And honestly? That silence is my answer.

Out of frustration, I shake my head, letting out a bitter laugh.

I don’t wait any longer for him to respond. I push myself up from the chair, my head spinning yet again, but this time it's definitely from the emotions burning in my chest. I take myself inside, my vision blurring as I walk upstairs to my room. My throat feels tight, my breath uneven, but I force myself to keep moving.

I’m glad my room is on the opposite side of the villa from everyone else. The last thing I need is anyone hearing me fall apart. I shouldn’t have even come on this stupid trip.

I reach my door and go to shut it behind me, desperate to lock myself away from the last two nights, from Matt, from everything.

But the door doesn’t close. It’s blocked.

I freeze.

Then, I feel it. The resistance. The presence.

Matt.

He’s standing on the other side, his hand pressed firmly against the doorframe, stopping me from shutting him out.

"Move." My voice is quiet, but there’s an edge to it.

He doesn’t. Instead, he steps forward, pushing the door open just enough for our eyes to meet.

"I don’t want to do this right now, Matt" I say, my voice wavering. "Just leave me alone."

He exhales sharply. "I can’t."

My heart clenches. "Why not?"

He doesn’t answer right away, just steps fully inside, closing the door behind him. Locking us in.

"Your silence was my answer, Matt. What more is there to say?" I snap, arms crossed tightly over my chest, trying to keep it together. My emotions are lining my eyes, my throat tightening. I don’t want to cry, not in front of him. Not now.

"That’s not fair" he finally says, his voice softer than before.

I scoff. "Oh, now you have something to say?"

His jaw clenches, hands balling into fists at his sides like he’s frustrated, but why is he frustrated?

"You don’t understand" he mutters.

"Then make me understand" I fire back. "Because I’m done trying to figure you out."

For a second, he just stares at me, like he’s caught between wanting to say something and running the other way. But then, without warning,

He takes a step closer.

Then another.

Until the space between us is almost nonexistent.

"I only ever acted like that because I thought you would never like me." His voice is low, almost uncertain, but the weight behind his words is undeniable. "I can be awkward. I can close myself off. You have such good relationships with both of my brothers, and I wasn’t sure where I fit in your life. I didn’t know if there was space for me, so I kept my distance, hoping that maybe if I stayed far enough away, I could push down what I felt for you. But it never worked."

My lips part slightly, but I don’t speak. I can’t. I just stare at him, trying to process what he’s saying, what he’s admitting.

He exhales sharply, before locking his eyes with mine again, this time with nothing held back. "Do you have any idea how badly I wanted to kiss you last night, Y/n? How much I’ve wanted to for longer than I can even admit to myself? The only reason I didn’t is because I knew how drunk you were. I wasn’t sure if you meant it, and I couldn’t-" He pauses, shaking his head. "I couldn’t let myself take something I wasn’t sure you truly wanted."

His words hit me like a tonne of bricks, my heart pounding. My mind a mess, I’ve spent so long being confused about Matt, when all along, he was just as lost as I was.

The room feels smaller, the space between us bubbling with everything we've avoided for so long. I can feel my pulse in my ears as I stare at Matt. I swallow hard, as we both just stare at eachother, as I think of what to say.

But Matt doesn’t give me time to think, to process, to argue anymore. He takes that final step to close the space between us, his hands grip my face, and his lips crash into mine.

It’s not soft. It’s not hesitant. It’s everything unsaid, everything bottled up, coming to the surface all at once. A mix of frustration, yearning, and something close to desperation. He kisses me like he’s afraid I’ll pull away, like he’s afraid this moment will slip through his fingers if he doesn’t act on it now.

But I don’t pull away. I don’t hesitate. The second his lips meet mine, I melt into him like it was inevitable, like this was always going to happen no matter how much we pretended otherwise. My hands grip his shirt, fisting the fabric, pulling him in as close as physically possible. His hands slide from my face down to my waist, holding me there, grounding me, like he needs to make sure I’m real.

He exhales against my lips, like he’s been holding his breath for too long. Like this is relief and chaos all at once. I barely have time to process the way his lips move against mine, slow but hungry, before I realize I’m kissing him back just as desperately.

The tension between us is electric, suffocating in the best way, years of mixed signals and extreme tension finally colliding into something real. My head is spinning, but not from the alcohol this time. From him. From this.

When we finally break apart, our foreheads stay pressed together, our breaths tangled in the silence of my dark room. His hands don’t leave my waist, and I don’t loosen my grip on his shirt.

For a second, neither of us speaks. We just exist in this moment, the weight of it pressing down on us.

And then, in a voice so quiet I almost miss it, Matt whispers, “I’ve wanted to do that for so fucking long.”

a/n : writing the start of this when actually hungover was an experience.. but ROLLERCOASTERRRRRRR everyones clocking their shit! p.s if youve not seen my recent post regarding future fic pls read here

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