#sunsetinmyvein prompts

[sunsetinmyvein]

Ran Into Some Complications - Matty Healy

Thank you to the ever lovely @imagine-that-100​ for the request from the prompt list. 

Why did time always seem to go by so slowly when you were stuck waiting by yourself? Was there a reason that seconds seemed to feel like minutes? Was it just mind games or did it literally create some weird kind of wormhole? Probably the former. I checked my phone for what felt like the hundredth time, hoping that I finally had a ‘on my way!’ message sitting there, only to come up empty. Again. So much for meeting at the bar for six - it was already six thirty. I sighed to myself, thanking the bartender as they handed me the cider I had ordered.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing at the bar all by yourself?” I heard a voice call from behind me. I instantly gritted my teeth as I turned to face the source of the sleazy comment. Sure enough, the crooked smile, the greasy, slicked back hair, he looked as shady as he sounded.

“Just waiting for a mate.” I said, trying to diffuse this situation before it started.

“They left you here all alone?” He asked as he slid into the stool next to mine. “Let me buy you a drink.” He added as he tried to flag the bartender down. Ugh. Why.

“No thanks, got one.” I said as I held up my cider. “And they’re on their way.” I dismissed.

“I’ll just keep this stool warm for them, then.” He grinned. I could smell the whiskey on his breath. Gross. This evening was headed in a downward spiral if I didn’t cut this off soon.

“I- you really don’t have to.” I grimaced, my eyes darting around the room to try and spot an easy way out of this. I caught sight of a group of four men walking in, eyeing them hopefully. The one closest to the bar seemed well kept. He had a grey suit jacket on, his straight hair was neatly combed back, he was laughing with his friends. He seemed friendly. He’d do. “Oh, this is him now.”

  I hopped off my stool, stepping in front of the dark-haired man. “What took you so long?” I asked with a warm smile.

He stared at me in bewilderment, “Me?”

“Yeah, you. Come here.” I said with a light laugh, trying to pretend that this wasn’t awkward.

“What? Why?” He asked with a confused frown.

I grabbed the sleeve of his jacket, pulling him down closer to my level to try and not be overhead. “Please just come here.” I said, trying to look as imploring as I possibly could. This was going to look bad on me if he didn’t come with me. I didn’t want to think about what would happen if this guy shrugged me off and I had to walk back over there. He stared at me for a long moment, before turning back to his friend who had stopped to see what was happening.

“I, erm, suppose I’ll be back in a bit?” He said with a shrug.

  Thankfully, this man came willingly with me back towards the bar. And I was even more grateful for him being quite clued on. He took one look between me, and the greasy dude sitting opposite me, to get the hint.

“So sorry, love. Traffic was awful.” He said as he wrapped an arm around my shoulder and kissed my cheek. Geez, he was really going all in. I felt my face burning at the unexpected attention. At least it was going to look the part. “Have you already got a drink?”

“Yeah. Do you want one?” I nodded, turning to him. He really was standing awfully close to me. At this proximity I was able to smell the pleasant smell of the aftershave that he had used.

“I’ll just have my usual.” He said with a smirk.

“Uhh…” My eyes widened as I processed his answer. Fuck. Had this guy just agreed to help me to be equally as annoying as the sleazy one? Maybe I’d just made this situation so much worse. I quickly scanned over his appearance. The neat hair, the grey jacket, he seemed like the kind of person to drink a clear drink. “Gin and tonic.” I ordered apprehensively.

“Close enough.” He chuckled under his breath.

  The bartender brought over the extra drink and passed it over to my new found fake date.

“How was work? Did you get that booking sorted out?” He asked casually. God, he was smooth. He was definitely the right person to have grabbed to act like who I was waiting for.

“Yeah! It was a hassle but I got there in the end.” I laughed with a nod, playing along. I was surprised at how easy this felt, to be honest. This guy gave me the vibes of someone that I’d like to have a genuine conversation with, rather than a pretend one. “What about you?” I asked back. I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. Taking a quick glance at it, I saw that it was a message from the friend I had been waiting on – saying that they couldn’t make it. Phew. Good thing I had dragged over someone else instead of just waiting.

“The studio was a bit gruelling but that’s nothing new.” He shrugged. Studio? What on earth did this guy do for a living? He must’ve noticed me frowning at his comment, because he just raised an eyebrow like he was challenging me to question it. In taking a good look at him, this guy was a bit of a looker. There were definitely worse people I could’ve grabbed. “But this evening is making up for it.” He added as he took a sip from his glass. Wait. Was he flirting?

  It seemed that whatever this guy was doing worked, because my creepy stalker decided to get up and walk off. I let out a sigh of relief as I looked over at the empty stool.

“Thank god he left.” I huffed.

“He’ll come back.” The dark-haired man shrugged as he slipped into the empty seat. I gave him a questioning look as to how he could know that. “He left his whiskey on the bar.” He added as he gestured towards it.

I nodded in understanding. It was nice at least to have a breather to recompose myself and finally have a sip of my drink. “Thanks for this.” I said after a minute of silence.

“It’s okay.” He replied with what looked like a genuine smile, picking up his gin. “I can think of much worse ways to spend my night.” He added as he eyed me over the rim of his glass.

Now that was definitely flirting. Part of my brain found it ironic to have replaced one guy trying to hit on me with another. But… I didn’t mind so much with this one. “Are you flirting with me?” I accused.

“Are you blushing?” He shot back. The air of confidence surrounding this guy was undeniably attractive.

  Before I had a chance to respond, greasy hair man was back. He frowned at the offender sitting in his stool.

“Do you wan-” He started to say, turning to me. But he was cut off before he could finish whatever he was going to ask.

“I can’t believe that you also listen to them!” My fake date laughed loudly. He fell into these shenanigans far too readily. But I wasn’t about to complain. “Shh… listen…” He said, holding up a hand to quiet us. I stopped talking, trying to listen to whatever he had heard. “That’s the sound of me falling in love with you.” He continued.

I let out an uneasy laugh, trying to shrug off his comment. “I’ve been listening to them for ages.” I responded, trying to keep up with how quickly he was building this story.

“Ah, sorry, mate. Just nice to be together after a long day.” He said with a corny grin as he placed a hand on my knee. I looked down at it for a moment, trying very hard to keep my reactions to his blatant flirting in check. “Matty, by the way.” This guy - Matty, said as he stuck out his hand to sleazy dude. “And you are..?” He asked with an eyebrow raised.

“Leaving.” He answered abruptly as he reached between us and picked up his whiskey, before heading on his way.

“Well… that worked.” I chuckled.

  “Seems I was an effective deterrent.” Matty said with a nod as he took a swig from his glass.

“You did a good job with that.” I agreed. “You were far too good at it, though.”

“Too good?” He asked with a surprised grin. “That doesn’t seem like it should be a problem.”

I shrugged. “Just makes me question how many times girls have roped you into situations like this.”

“Roping me into it? What if I was the one trying to get out of the awkward situation?” He questioned.

“You really get that much unwanted attention?”

“More than you can imagine.”

  We chatted for a bit, actually starting to get to know each other properly now that we didn’t have to play pretend that we already did. It turned out that he was in a band, hence the studio time earlier today. The guys that he had come in with were his band mates, getting a drink after a long day. He had a general sense of charisma and charm about him. The more I talked to him, the more I wanted to keep talking to him. And thankfully the flirting dropped off once there was no longer anyone standing nearby to try and convince. It was easier on my brain to process our conversation without having to also process an attractive man hitting on me. Before I knew it, an hour had passed. I was surprised that he was still hanging around, given that what I had asked of him was done now.

“Did you want get out of here?” Matty eventually offered nonchalantly.

I choked on the cider I had been sipping, trying to recompose my thoughts. “What?” I spluttered.

“He’s still side eyeing you across the bar,” He explained, gesturing towards the other side of the room. He was right, sleazy man was boring holes into the side of my head. “if we leave together then he should get the hint.” Right. That made much more sense than the alternative reason as to why he’d ask that.

  Matty’s plan worked. We were not followed when we stepped outside into the brisk night air and ordered an uber. He sent a message to his friends, letting them know that he had to leave. I felt bad. His night had been forced to end because of me. I told him that it was fine now, that I’d be happy to head home by myself and he could go back inside to his friends. But he insisted that he make sure I get home safe. The sentiment was pretty heart-warming, to be honest. I doubt I could’ve picked a better guy to help me in such a shitty situation. Once we were settled in the back of the car, I could finally breathe a bit easier. It was nice to not feel like I was being shadowed.

“Sorry for ruining your night.” I apologised.

“Ah, you didn’t ruin it.” He said with a dismissive hand wave. “I dread the thought about what might’ve happened if I hadn’t shown up.” He continued, staring out the window pensively, before he seemed to knock himself out of whatever train of thought he had been on. “But good thing I was.” He said as he turned back to me with a bright grin.

“Well, thank you.” I nodded. “You were good company, for a fake date.” I chuckled, nudging his side playfully.

“Well… I wouldn’t mind taking you out to a bar again as a not fake date.” He offered, running a hand through his hair. He… what? My brain took a second to comprehend what he was suggesting. “If you’d let me.” He quickly added.

My thoughts kicked into gear as I realised that he thought I might decline. “Yeah. Yeah! That sounds like a good idea.” I agreed.

“I assure you, I’m a much better real date than fake date.”

[canyousevmyheavydirtysoul]

𝒊'𝒎 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌...

i'm so sorry that i’ve been inactive for so long, and there’s really no excuse for it. i’m a uni student now and as my studies became more and more of a priority, so my writing and social media presence declined. 

BUT

that’s going to change. 

a couple things:

i have a whole lot of content that’s waiting to be posted on here, (including Bodyguard IV: Vegas Lights) so prepare for a spam. 

also, i’m happy to announce that requests are open and will remain open for the foreseeable future! send me prompts, get me writing! 

if any of you want to be added or removed from tag lists, just let me know in the comments, my asks, or via message. 

i really have missed interacting with all of you wonderful people, and i hope that i’ll be able to reconnect with some of you. ❀

lastly, a thank you to @sunsetinmyvein , who has inspired me to rekindle my Tumblr flame. 

all the love, 

― 𝐿𝑒𝓍 ♡

[robinrunsfiction]

Drabble Requsts

Here is the first of my drabble requests, finally completed. As requested by @sunsetinmyvein with angst prompts 15, 18 and fluff prompt 18.

From Patrick: Hey

From Patrick: Hey, (YN) you ok?

From Patrick: I haven't heard from you in a while, please let me know you're ok

You sighed as you tossed your phone aside and wiped away the tears threatening to spill from your eyes. You hadn't been ok, you were going through a rough patch emotionally and didn't feel like being around anyone. You just wanted to be alone until it passed.

But Patrick had known you long enough to understand what was happening and was trying to help. He'd been texting you for days and you were only sending him short replies.

To Patrick: Please don’t talk to me, I’m dealing with some stuff

You went to your bed and laid down, listening to the rain beat against your roof. You closed your eyes and took some deep breaths, trying to calm down.

You didn't even realize you had fallen asleep until your phone started vibrating on the bed next to you. You grabbed your phone and saw it was Patrick calling.

"Patrick?"

"Hey, are you ok? I wanted to check on you. I've got pizza."

You sighed. "That's ok Patrick, I'm not that hungry."

“(YN), I didn’t get soaked wet through walking to your house for you to say no to pizza. I have beer too. I know you’re sad, so let me in.”

"Wait, you're outside?!" You exclaimed, jumping out of bed and hurrying to the door and throwing it open. "Come in!"

Patrick hurried in, kicking off his wet shoes and setting down the pizza and a six pack of beer down on the coffee table. "You really didn't have to do all this," you said in astonishment.

"Yea I did, because I wanna try to help you feel better. I know it won't work like magic, but maybe it will help. I really care about you (YN), I hate the thought of you being down," Patrick explained.

"Thanks Patrick," you said softly, your eyes going to the floor, tears welling up. "I don't know why you, or anyone would care about me."

"Hey," he said tilting your chin up so you were looking at him as tears streamed down. "I care about you because you're kind and sweet and funny and loyal and beautiful," suddenly his cheeks were turning pink, "and this is probably a bad time to say this, but I really like you (YN), like, I like you, like you, and I just wanna make you smile at least a little everyday, even when its dark and rainy."

"Oh Patrick," you cried as you threw your arms around his neck and hugged him tight. "When you pulled back, his hat was slightly askew and he was still blushing and for the first time in days, you smiled, before leaning in and pressing your lips against his gently. His hands found your waist and held you close.

When you pulled back you laughed lightly. “I don’t like this, it feels weird.”

"I'm sorry, I really shouldn't have said anything" Patrick said backing away from you quickly.

"No! No no, not you Patrick, your clothes are all wet and now mine are too," you laughed. "Come on, I probably have a shirt and some sweatpants that will fit you while I put your clothes in the drier."

Patrick smiled with relief. "Then we can dig in to that pizza."

"Great idea," you smiled up at him before placing another kiss on his lips.

[sunsetinmyvein]

Just You and I Tonight

Another prompt? Another prompt. Requested by one of the best fanfic writers the world has ever known @aphxsia​ off the prompt list~

“Matty, I need a hand.” I called out to my housemate as I rifled through my wardrobe.

“With what?” He shouted back. I heard his footsteps pad closer until his short curls popped up around my doorway.

“I have that date tonight, remember?” I answered.

“Ooooo.” He cooed with a smirk as he sat down on the end of my bed.

“Can you just shut up and help me?” I said, rolling my eyes at his tone.

“What exactly do you need help with?” He asked.

“You know what guys are into-”

“I know what I’m into.” He corrected.

“What am I meant to wear for this thing?” I sighed in exasperation. I’d spent the last half an hour trying to pick something decent and, in the end, decided to deflect the decision.

Matty nodded, looking like he was thinking about this for a second. “Where is he talking you?”

“I dunno, a restaurant.” I shrugged. In all honesty, I wasn’t overly excited about this date, which was probably why I was struggling to choose something to wear. But I felt bad saying no to this poor man when, for all intents and purposes, he ticked all the boxes of what I would usually look for. I just… wasn’t feeling it.

“A fancy restaurant?” He asked.

“I think so.” He actually hadn’t told me where exactly we were going, but he seemed the type to go somewhere extravagant.

“Maybe like a nice dress, then?” He suggested.

“That seems like too much for a first date.” I grimaced. “Especially considering I probably won’t see him again.” I added under my breath.

“A decent blouse, then..?” He said

“Hm. That’ll do, I guess.” I said with a nod, grabbing something off a hanger that I quite liked.

 I ushered Matty out, quickly changing into the new outfit before stepping out into the main living area for his opinion. He looked up from his laptop as I walked in, giving me a once over before going back to whatever he was doing. “What’s the weather meant to be like tonight?” He questioned.

I frowned, unsure where he was going with this, “Pretty cold.” I said. “Why?”

“A jacket might be smart?” He recommended.

“Oh, yeah…” I muttered, glancing down at my short-sleeved blouse. “I don’t think I really have a jacket that goes with this, though...”

“I might.” He said instantly.

“You’d loan me one of your jackets?” I asked in surprise. Matty had a hell of a wardrobe these days - I was certain that many of the things on his hangers were worth more than my car.

“Yeah.” He said with a shrug. His nonchalance about giving out something that cost so much made me envy his pay cheque.

“Aren’t they all fancy and tailored?” I asked, already heading in the direction of his room.

He just chuckled lightly, “I’m sure you’ll pull it off. Don’t worry.” He called after me.

  As expected, his wardrobe was thoroughly impressive. The amount of ridiculous looking Gucci and Saint Laurent outfits in here was crazy. It was actually rather daunting trying to make a decision about what jacket to borrow, because the sheer amount of options was intimidating. After flicking through his hangers, I found a nice medium-length black jacket that would do the trick for keeping the cold out. It didn’t quite fit when buttoned up fully, but having just the bottom button done up looked pretty decent. I made my way back into the living room, waiting for Matty to look up from his laptop before gesturing to the suit jacket. He stared at it for a long moment, before meeting my gaze again. It looked like the gears inside his head were turning, but nothing was coming out of his mouth. Matty didn’t often have nothing to say. “What?” I asked. “Does it look shit?” I asked with a frown.

“No, like… It’s just…” He raked a hand through his curls as he let out a huff of air. “I can’t believe you’re actually wearing my clothes.” He seemed pretty worked up over this. I suddenly felt like maybe I should’ve checked the tag. Had I grabbed something stupidly expensive?

“So, it looks good?” I asked apprehensively.

“It looks insanely good.” He nodded with a disbelieving laugh.

“Oh. Great. Hopefully the date goes-”

“Don’t go out with that guy.” He interrupted, shaking his head as he stood up.

  “Huh? Why?” I watched as he stood up and crossed the room to stand in front of me.

“You’re way too good for him.” He scoffed, reaching out to straighten the lapel of the jacket, resting a hand just below my shoulder as he did so.

“Am I just?” I asked in surprise, finding myself laughing slightly. “Who do you propose I date then?”

“Me.” He said simply.

His statement hung there for a second as I processed it. “What?” I could suddenly hear my heart rate hammering in my ears.

“Go on a date with me.” He rephrased. My stomach dropped when he asked the full question.

“What?” How long had Matty been into me? Was this a recent thing or was it a thing when he suggested I move in? This brought up far too many questions.

“Please?” He asked hopefully. As I stared up at him, I couldn’t help but feel like I wanted to say yes to him - and not just to be polite. This, this was the vibe that I had been missing with that other guy. This was why I hadn’t been keen for the date. I just hadn’t realised it was possible for me to get this feeling so close to home.

“You know what?” I started, trying to contain my grin. “Yeah.” I nodded as he broke out into an eager smile. “Grab a coat.”

[sunsetinmyvein]

My Foot is in the Door - Patrick Stump

Eyyyy, thanks for the request from the prompt list lovely anon! I went with a slightly different angle with the “ I’m calling to cancel our date because I’m actually in the ER right now, sorry. I mean… sure? I guess you can come down here but- okay…” context, since I’ve done it once already for Mr Healy and wanted to spice it up. Hopefully you still enjoy it. (Also, it didn’t eat the bottom half of your ask, I’m just a dumbass lol)

“Pete, I just don’t know why you set me up on this date.” Patrick huffed into the phone as he tried to find his tie. Where the fuck had he put it? When did he last even wear it..? Probably for that shitty wedding two years ago.

“Because you need to get laid, ‘trick.” His friend’s voice echoed down the line.

“I’m fine.” He grumbled as he flipped his laundry basket over. It wasn’t there either.

“It’s been ages.” Pete droned.

“Just because you need to fuck someone every three days doesn’t mean I have to.” He shot back, only to hear the bassist laugh in response. “I’m not gonna sleep with someone I’m not into. You know that, right?” He asked as he finally caught sight of the dark blue tie sticking out from one of his dresser drawers.

“You should.” He yanked hard on the tie, but it wouldn’t budge.

“That’s not how it works.” Patrick spat angrily as he pulled on the tie again.

“It is for me.” He could just hear the smugness in Pete’s voice. He didn’t want to go on this stupid fucking date. He’d done it as a favour and it had just backfired on him. The restaurant was ages away and way too fancy, he didn’t even like this girl, and now he couldn’t even get his fucking tie to look half decent.

“Pete, I swear to god-” He started as he spun around and kicked his door in frustration, only to feel pain shoot up his leg and leave him crumpled on the floor.

  At the sound of the phone clattering to the floor and Patrick’s strangled cry of pain, Pete became slightly concerned. “Are you okay?” The singer heard his friend ask. His phone was only a metre away, but he felt like if he let go of his ankle he might die. Patrick also saw the sizeable hole that was now in his bedroom door.

“No. Obviously I’m fucking not!” He shouted in the direction of the receiver.

“What did you do?” Pete continued.

“Probably just broke my foot when I kicked the door because I was mad at you and my stupid tie.” He stared daggers at the piece of fabric in question as he said it, hoping that it was able to feel his wrath.

All he could hear was laughter. “You’re a dumbass.” He was going to choke on his rage any second now and just die here on the floor with a broken foot.

“I’m going to fucking smash your bass over your car if you don’t take me to the hospital.” He eventually said through gritted teeth when Pete’s laughter died down.

“Shit. I’ll be there in five.” He mumbled as he hung up the call.

“You fucking better be.”

  The drive to the hospital was mostly just filled with the crackling of Pete’s shabby old radio. Patrick was in too much pain to speak. He worried that if he opened his mouth he might just scream, so he opted to keep it shut. He was also still mad at Pete for being the cause of this. But at least he’d gotten out of the date. Shit. The date. “I’d better call her and let her know not to go to the restaurant…” He muttered as he fumbled in his pocket for his phone.

“You probably should, yeah.” Pete nodded as they pulled into the carpark.

Patrick scrolled through his phone for her contact, before begrudgingly hitting the call button. She picked up after three rings, which was a shame – he had hoped he could just leave her a voicemail. “Look, I’m really sorry but I need to cancel our date.” He sighed.

“What? Why?” She asked in what sounded like frustration.

“I, uh… I think I’ve broken my foot?” He answered hesitantly.

“Oh my god!” She gasped loud enough that Patrick had to pull his phone away from his ear.

  “So, it needs to be looked at-” He continued.

“Let me drive you!” She offered instantly. He could hear her shuffling around on the other end of the line.

“No, it’s fine, I’m already here-” He shook his head vehemently, even though he knew she couldn’t see it.

“I’ll meet you there. Just let me find my jacket.” She interrupted, clearly not listening to what he was saying.

He decided to just get to the point and be honest with her, “Seriously, I’d rather you didn’t-”

“I’ll see you soon!” She called out, before he heard the click of the call ending.

“I… guess?”  He said in disbelief as he stared at the phone in his hand.

“Come on.” Pete said, gesturing in the direction of the hospital doors and holding a hand out to help Patrick get out of the car. Patrick slapped it away, deciding to hobble to the doors by himself.

  Once he had checked in, taken a number and sat down in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs, he let out a long sigh. At least it wasn’t too busy in the waiting room at this hour. He felt far too dressed up to be here, still in his good pants and crisp shirt. But no emergency room was complete without a crying baby and a TV that was turned up slightly too loud. The jarring noises rattled around Patrick’s skull incessantly. Why couldn’t he have grabbed some headphones on his way out of the house? He let out another defeated sigh.

“You gonna tell me what’s wrong or you just gonna wallow in your angst?” Pete asked, not even looking up from his phone.

“Why did you set me up with this girl?” Patrick moped. He could’ve had a pleasant evening by himself. But no, here he was with a fractured foot and a jerk.

“Because I am older and therefore wiser than you.” He spoke in an entitled tone.

“Get fucked.” He scoffed with a roll of his eyes.

  “Because she’s hot.” That sounded much more accurate.

“Then why didn’t you just take her out?” He questioned.

“I took pity on you.” Pete said as he clapped a supportive hand down on Patrick’s shoulder, which he instantly shrugged off.

“I don’t fucking need your pity, Pete.” He frowned. The notion that he required relationship help from someone like Pete was just downright offensive.

“Well, you need something to help you out. You’re doing pretty hopelessly at the moment.” He said as he tried to wrap his arm around the younger singer.

“Hey! Fuck you!” He nearly shouted, moving to grab Pete’s arm off him. But he was too fast.

“I’m doing you a favour, man.” Pete chuckled. He was about to also need to check himself into the emergency waiting list if he continued like this.

  “Mr Stump?” A voice called, right as Patrick had lined up his fist with Pete’s teeth.

“Oh, that’s me.” He mumbled in surprise. “This isn’t over.” He added, glaring at his friend. Pete just flashed his shit-eating grin in response. Patrick gave him the finger.

“He can come too-” The nurse started to offer.

“No!” He cut her off instantly. “He absolutely is not coming.” He said, scrambling to get to his feet and limp over to the nurse. She eyed him in concern before taking a few steps closer to help him walk.

“Come through here.” She instructed as she motioned towards a set of double doors.

“Sure thing.” He nodded as she wrapped an arm around his waist to try and keep some of the weight off his foot. Patrick couldn’t help but feel the little nagging voice at the back of his brain informing him that the attention was nice.

  “Just sit here and let’s take a look.” She said as she sat him down in a chair and began rifling through a few drawers. Patrick watched her as she tried to find whatever equipment she was looking for. She was quite pretty. That just made this all the more embarrassing. Having an attractive person deal with your stupid, anger induced injury? Awful.

“I think I might’ve broken it, or fractured it.” He started to explain as he took his hat off and ran a hand through his hair, trying to fill the awkward silence. She nodded along, listening to him elaborate on his pain.

“All right.” She finally said, having removed his swollen foot from his shoe. “Let me know if this hurts.” She said as she began to try and roll his ankle around. He took in a sharp breath, the pain was instantaneous.

“That… yep.” Patrick squeaked, trying hard not to yank his foot away. “Definitely hurts.” He nodded rapidly.

“One a scale of one to ten?” She asked as she gently put his foot back on the ground.

“Nine. Nine point five.” He said quickly, rubbing at the stubble on his chin to stop himself from crying out in pain.

“Okay.” She said, turning around to make some notes on his file. “There doesn’t seem to be any abrasions or cuts, what did you do to it?” She questioned.

“I… er… I was worked up on the phone and kicked a door too hard.” He admitted sheepishly as he pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

  “Must’ve been an intense conversation you were having there, Mr Stump.” She said with an amused look.

“My friend out there set me up on a shitty date.” He said, jabbing a thumb towards the door.

“Oh? Why was it so bad?” She asked as bandaged his foot to try and keep the swelling compressed.

“The girl he set me up with is more of his type of girl than mine, and now he’s just trying to guilt trip me into going on a date with her.” He explained with a huff. As he said it, he heard her familiar shrill voice echoing in through the waiting room door. “Oh my god, that’s her.” He said, shrinking down in his chair. “Please don’t let her know I’m back here.” He pleaded. He was trying not to sound desperate, but was absolutely certain he was failing.

“You don’t want her to know you’re okay?” She asked with a confused frown.

“I really don’t want to be on this date.” He said truthfully, scratching at one of his sideburns. “I told her I was going to the ER and she just told me she’d meet me her. I tried to ask her not to but she insisted.”

“Fair enough.” She shrugged as she grabbed a set of crutches. “I’m going to send you off for an x-ray to verify exactly what you’ve done. It’s just down the…” She was about to send him back through the waiting room to go down to the x-ray clinic, but then realised he probably didn’t want to go past this date of his. And the puppy dog look he was giving her was too sweet to resist. “Let’s go the back way.” She suggested.

“Thanks.” He grinned.

  After a slow and shaky trip down to the x-ray machines, the nurse left him in the technician’s capable hands. The scan took less than five minutes. But then a further ten minutes was spent by Patrick prying to know what his foot looked like. Was it broken? Fractured? Sprained? The answer of ‘I’m not the doctor, I can’t tell you’ just wasn’t good enough. Also, he’d rather not leave this nice, confined room just yet. But eventually he had to give up and go back to the waiting room. He apprehensively pushed the door open, feeling a rush of relief to see Pete sitting by himself.

“Hey, man. What did they say?” He asked as Patrick hobbled over.

“I don’t know. They have to wait for the x-ray to come back.” He said as he tried to sit down. Crutches made everything so much more difficult to manoeuvre.

“Do they think it’s broken?” He continued to question.

“I don’t know.” He said again. “Where did she go?” He asked, glancing around the waiting room.

“She went out to go get a coffee.” Pete answered. A coffee at 11pm? Geez. “Did you want me to-”

“No!” Patrick instantly shouted, earning a death stare from the receptionist at his volume. “No.” He said again, quieter.

“I’ll let her know when you’re free next?” He suggested. It looked like he was trying to contain his stupid smile.

“Please don’t.” Patrick groaned.

  The bandages soothed the pain somewhat. Which was helpful considering it was another hour in the waiting room before the results of his x-ray came back. “Mr Stump, please come through.” The same nurse called out.

“Coming!” He spoke, quickly getting to his feet. Pete watched his lack of coordination with the crutches with amusement, at one point sticking his foot out just to be difficult. Patrick stomped on it with his good foot, earning a yelp out of the bassist.

“Take a seat.” The nurse said when he eventually managed to get into the room.

“Is there a reason you never say my first name?” Patrick asked as he leaned his crutches against the wall.

“What?” She asked, seemingly caught off guard.

“You keep calling me Mr Stump.” He elaborated, adjusting his glasses.

“Oh, well… it’s just procedure, I guess? We’re told to refer to patients by their surname.” She answered.

“You can call me Patrick.” He said. She looked over at him, and he suddenly felt self-conscious under her stare. “Uh, if you want, anyway.” He added with a nervous grin. She just smiled back at him.

  “Looking at your x-rays, it’s not broken.” She said, bringing them up on her screen.

“Oh, that’s good.” He said, the news brightening his mood.

“You’ve just dislocated it.” She continued, pointing out the leg bone that wasn’t sitting flush with his foot like it should be on the scan.

“That’s… not good.” He said quietly. The worries started building in his head about what that meant for their gig next weekend. Would he even be able to walk by then? Let alone be on stage for an hour?

“It’s not great Patrick, no.” She laughed lightly. The way she said his name pulled him out of his spiralling. “You really did a number on yourself.” The smile on her face made his heart rate start climbing. He realised after a second that he was just staring at her like a love-sick puppy, and should probably say something.

He cleared his throat before speaking, “So, um… What do I do now?” He asked, leaning forward in his seat to get a better look at the x-ray.

“We’re going to need to move the bones back into place.” She replied. He instantly grimaced. “It won’t be as bad as you think. It’ll hurt less once it’s sorted.” She reassured him.

“I’ll take your word for it.” He nodded grimly as he pulled a hand through his hair.

  “We’re going to need to take you through to one of the doctors to get them to do it.” She said as she stood up and started moving towards the doors.

“Aw, man. More walking?” He complained. “These crutches are so hard to use.” He mumbled as he got to his feet.

“Have you adjusted them?” She questioned.

“What?”

“Have you adjusted them? To be correct to your height?”

“Oh, uh… no? How do I do that?” He stared down at the large metal contraptions. After a brief moment of laughing at him, she helped him sort out the crutches to be more comfortable. Usually, he would get pretty defensive at being laughed at, but in this moment, he was just happy to have made the cute girl laugh. Maybe all the adrenalin was messing with his brain.

  As they stepped out into the waiting room, the nurse nudged his shoulder. “It would seem your friend is having a better night than you are.” She said quietly.

“Huh?” He looked around the room in confusion, before spotting what she was referring to. He caught sight of Pete walking out of the hospital, with his date hanging off his arm. The bastard then had the audacity to turn around and flash Patrick a thumbs up over his shoulder. The fucker.

“I’m gonna fucking kill him.” Patrick said through gritted teeth, his knuckles turning white as he gripped his crutches.

“Wait until your foot is better first.” He heard the nurse say.

“What?” He frowned.

“Don’t wanna give him any extra advantages or you might not succeed.” She explained.

He looked at her in bewilderment for a second, before starting to laugh. “I’m liking you more and more by the minute.”

  She ushered him through to the doctor’s room, leaving him sat there waiting and worrying for the next twenty-five minutes. Finally, a doctor came in to reposition his foot. They ran him through a few things that they were going to do, before just jumping right in. The pain was on a new level from anything he had felt before as the doctor forcibly moved his bones. But once it was set as it should be, it started to ebb away slightly. Once the procedure was done, the doctor relegated him back to the nurse’s office. He sat quietly, massaging his ankle slightly to try and relieve some of the ache.

“Patrick, good to see you still in one piece.” She said as she came back into the room.

He looked up at her in surprise, unable to stop himself from cracking a smile. “Good to have my foot reconnected to my leg.” He shot back.

“The doctors sorted you out, then?”

“Yeah.” He nodded as he fiddled with the hat in his hands. “They said you had some medication for me?” He added.

“Yes. I do.” She began grabbing a box out from the cupboard above her computer before handing it to him. “Only take these painkillers once a day - I’d recommend using them to sleep.” She instructed with a serious expression.

“Got it.”

“Keep your foot elevated when you can to reduce the swelling, ice it if it’s hurting too much.” She continued.

“Okay. I can do that.”

  “And if you’re really struggling,” She started, handing him some paperwork. “Feel free to ask me for help.”

He looked at her in confusion, before looking down at the papers to see a number written across the top. It took him a second for the pieces to click into place. “Really?” He grinned in disbelief.

“Take care of yourself, Patrick.” She smiled sweetly.

“But if I don’t, I’ll see you more.” He pointed out.

“You can see me without injuring yourself.” She laughed, rolling her eyes at his suggestion.

“Good to know.” He felt like his heart was beating so fast it might explode.

“Terrible night a little bit better now?”

“Much.”

[sunsetinmyvein]

You Pick a Fight - P3

I have long since forgotten what prompts from the prompt list that we used for this, but as requested by @imagine-that-100​, the third and final part of You Pick a Fight. Enjoy!

True to his word, Matty absolutely did give me hell for everything I had said and done while in hospital. Word spread pretty fast in our circle of friends about how soft I had remarked his hair was, much to my dismay. But my thumb survived, and that was the main concern. I could tolerate the berating for the sake of still having all of my digits. And to be fair, Matty was very helpful in hospital that day, as much as he didn’t tell anyone else about that half of the story. A part of my anaesthesia haze ramblings stayed with me even past that hectic evening. I suddenly felt like I gave that man too much grief throughout our friendship, maybe a few of my pranks were edging on too mean. Not that I was going to give up entirely on that side of our friendship, but I definitely had a feeling that it was time to pull back from how intense they had been becoming.  When every interaction between us wasn’t laced with sarcasm and spent looking over your shoulder for what could be coming next, spending time with Matty was actually… fairly pleasant? I found myself actually wanting to be around him.

“Mattyyyy.” I spoke into my phone as I propped it up between my shoulder and my ear.

“Yes?” His voice crackled back down the line.

“I need to ask you a favour.” I started. At this point, Matty was no stranger to my random phone calls for help. I mean, come on, he was rolling in it and had connections everywhere, I wasn’t just going to let that go to waste.

“Mm?”

“My high school reunion is coming up…” I stared at the invitation stuck to my fridge.

“And?” He prompted.

“And it would feel extremely vindicating to have a nice date to rub in everyone’s faces.” I finally suggested. Making this call wasn’t easy, I didn’t like the connotations that came with asking this. But, I did really like the connotations that came with rocking up with Matthew Healy in tow. And if I had to go, I wanted to have some fun with it.

  There was a pause, and I wasn’t sure if he’d heard me at first. “Ooo, I’m not sure.” He eventually said, sounding like he was thinking on it. “But I can see why you’d ask.” He added.

“What?” I frowned in confusion, not that he could see my expression anyway.

“I mean, why wouldn’t you want to be seen with someone as drop dead gorgeous as me?” He said. I gave a snort of laughter in response, but he didn’t continue any further.

I let out a deep sigh, then said the thing I knew would get him to go, “There’s an open bar.”

“I’ll be there.” He replied instantly.

“Great. Thanks.” I nodded.

“My pleasure.” I could just see his shit eating grin through the phone. Hopefully this idea didn’t backfire on me.

  * * *

  After a few weeks, the fateful evening rolled around. As promised, Matty drove round to my place, dressed very smartly in a nice button down. Which, after the crocs getup I’d seen him in literally the day prior, this was a vast improvement. But I couldn’t help but notice the bags under his eyes, and the way his eyelids drooped.

“Are… are you feeling okay?” I asked apprehensively as I let him in.

“Huh?” He seemed pretty out of it.

“How long has it been since you’ve sleep?” I asked with a short laugh.

“A week?” He answered, seeming entirely serious about his answer.

“Jesus, Matty. Why? What’s keeping you up?” I asked in concern, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Erm… Album stuff, you know.” He shrugged nonchalantly.

“Are you sure you’re good to go to this thing?” He looked in no state to be on a night out. But as soon as I questioned his ability to attend, he perked up.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be fine.” He nodded quickly, running a hand through his messy curls. As much as he’d dressed up, it seemed that there was no controlling that hair of his. “C’mon, let’s go.” He said as he gestured back to the door.

  We ordered an Uber, neither of us wanting to commit to being the designated driver and passing up on the free booze. Once we had clambered inside, I laid down a few ground rules about what to tell people if they asked. All the stuff about how we met, why we got together, the things that we had to make sure to agree on to get our story straight and seem believable.

“All right, so I’d appreciate if you tried to be a bit more tactful than usual.” I ended my spiel, giving him a serious look.

“Be as embarrassing as possible, got it.” He said with a firm nod.

“Can you please just listen to me for once?” I said as I rolled my eyes.

“Or-” He said, pointing a finger at me for emphasis, “I could not listen to you, and we could pull many fantastic pranks at this stuffy party.” He suggested.

I thought on this for a moment. “What did you have in mind?” I asked with an eyebrow raised.

“We can raise hell together - spike the punch, spread rumours, heckle the speeches, that sort of thing.” He elaborated with a devious smile.

The offer was tempting, but then I remembered that I was meant to be making a good impression. “No, no. I just… would rather be quietly impressive instead of causing a scene like we usually do.” I said, tearing my gaze away from him and looking back out the window.

“Whatever you say.”

  When we rocked up at my old high school, it probably shouldn’t have surprised me that everything looked exactly the same as what it did when I was a student. The buildings were a slight bit more run down, the signs were starting to wear away, it was nostalgic in a very uncomfortable way. We followed the small arrows staked in the ground, making our way through the school to where the reunion was being held. As we approached the doors, Matty stopped me, looping his arm with mine with a smile before walking in. The gesture instantly reminded me of why I had been worried about asking him to come as my faux date. Other than him getting the wrong idea, I didn’t want to dredge up any repressed feelings since that day in the hospital a few months ago. This thought was quickly squashed once we stepped into the room and had the tacky decorations shoved right into our faces. I had no idea what theme they were trying to achieve, but if it was ‘awkward high school disco’ they had successfully done it. However, I was pretty chuffed with the stares that we were getting as we walked through the room. By the look of the whispers that I saw being passed around, clearly Matty was recognised. Most of the people I had spotted I didn’t overly want to talk to, so I was glad to have brought a plus one that I could hang out with to avoid stifled pleasantries with people I’d not seen in over a decade.

  “Why is there a deer in the room?” Matty whispered in my ear as he gestured to the large buck that was sectioned off in the corner.

“School mascot.” I answered.

“What?” He asked with a frown.

“The football team, they’re called the bucks or something.” I explained, pointing out a banner on the wall with the cartoon version of the animal.

“So… they have a deer? A real live deer?” He continued with an incredulous laugh.

“Yep.” I nodded.

“Let’s go tie shit on its antlers.” He said eagerly, attempting to drag me towards the animal.

“No.” I quickly hissed, pulling him back towards the bar. “Let’s go get a drink.” I offered instead.

  With a drink in hand, Matty was much easier to keep under control. We drifted around to a few conversations, dropping stories of accomplishments and various other brag worthy things. After about half an hour, though, he started to get restless.

“Hey, where’s the woodshop?” He asked quietly as his eyes darted around the room.

“Why do you want to know?” I asked back, narrowing my eyes in suspicion.

“No reason.” He said with a shrug. “What about the art room?” He questioned with a smile playing on his lips.

“What are you scheming?” I accused.

“Nothing!” He threw his hands up in defence. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom and then get another drink. You want one?” He asked.

I stared at him for a moment, trying to work out what idea was turning over in that head of his. “Sure.” I conceded, watching as he strolled off.

  I was apprehensive about letting him wander off alone, what with his track record. But I had no reason to stop him. Once left to my own devices, I had to begrudgingly start conversations with my old classmates alone. I didn’t realise how much I missed having Matty to bounce off of in conversation until he wasn’t there. The time ticked by, and he still hadn’t returned. When I finally felt the need to go looking for Matty in case he got lost, I spotted him on the other side of the room sparking up conversation with a group of people. He looked very animated in whatever story he was telling, and then I saw him gesture to his thumb. Oh, no.

“Whatever he’s saying, he’s lying!” I called out, interrupting the person who had been speaking to me. Matty, clearly hearing my voice, looked up and waved with a smirk.

“Why did you even come with him if you were worried about his behaviour?” The guy I was speaking to huffed.

“I’m starting to forget.” I muttered, making my way through the crowd to work out what on earth he was saying. When I made my way to the small crowd that had formed around him, he was indeed telling the story about how I’d nearly cut off my thumb. However, he was telling it in a way I hadn’t heard before. He was embellishing the details about how helpful he was, about how happy I’d been to see him when I woke up, instead of his usual speech about how embarrassing it was for me. It felt pretty heart-warming to actually hear him acknowledge the other side of that night.

“That’s so sweet of you!” One of the girls from my English class cooed.

“She’s worth it.” Matty replied as he planted a kiss on my cheek. I instantly felt myself burning up, before plastering a smile on my face to try and keep up the charade I had concocted.

  When I finally pried him away from his crowd, we went to go get another drink. What was the point of an open bar if you didn’t take advantage of it?

“You really think I’d throw you under the bus in front of your own classmates?” He asked as he nudged me in the ribs playfully.

“I just never know with you sometimes.” I chuckled as I grabbed a bottle of cider. “Are you feeling better, then?” I added, noting his much more jovial appearance than when I first saw him today.

“Hm?” He questioned as he took a swig from his drink.

“You looked pretty sleep deprived when you rocked up at mine earlier today.” I clarified.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Much better.” He nodded, glancing down at his dress shoes.

“What’s been keeping you up?” I asked in curiosity, starting to walk back over to the centre of the room.

“Well, if I’m honest-”

“All right everyone, take your seats.” A voice interrupted over the loud speakers.

  Right, the speeches. People who had been notable in high school had been asked if they wanted to stand up and tell people all about where they were at now. Thank fuck I hadn’t been picked for that. We began shuffling over to the lined-up seats at the front of the room near the stage, Matty and I happily taking a spot near the back. As the speakers went to sit down in their chairs on the stage, all of the legs collapsed beneath them, sending the six people up there sprawling onto the wooden floor. A few quiet laughs came from the crowd. But I recognised that handiwork.

“Did you do that?” I asked, turning to Matty.

“I have no idea why you’d suspect me.” He answered, clearly trying (and failing) not to smile.

“Is that why you were asking about the woodshop?” I realised, my voice growing in volume slightly as it clicked in my head. Someone shushed me from the row behind us.

“I’m sorry, I don’t speak dumbass.” He shrugged.

“Real mature.” I mumbled, turning back to the stage to see them bringing new chairs over. He just wrapped an arm around my shoulder and pulled me into his side.

  After that, the speeches continued without a hitch. I had to admit, at least Matty’s antics had brought some fun to the dull event. Because besides the chairs collapsing, the hour-long spectacle nearly put me to sleep. Once they’d finished up, they began playing the music a bit louder than what they had been and packed the chairs in front of the stage away, encouraging people to use it as a dancefloor.

“Do you have any idea on how frustrating you can really be?” I frowned as we made our way over to the corner of the room to speak without people overhearing us. “You could’ve hurt someone.”

“Come ooooon.” He said, rolling his eyes. “You know you want to make this place a bit livelier. You’re never gonna see these people again, right?” He continued, leaning against a rail.

“Right.” I agreed.

“So, let’s have some fun.” He grinned. “You know we make a good team.”

I thought about it for a moment, and he had a point. This event was pretty boring, and we were a good team. Matty had been going out of his way tonight to do what I had asked of him, the least I could do was let him get some enjoyment too. “Fine.” I agreed. Watching as the large buck began chewing on Matty’s arm. “You might wanna keep an eye on your jacket, though.” I said as I gestured to the animal.

“Huh? Oh, wha- Hey!” He shouted as he yanked his sleeve out of the deer’s mouth.

  Once he had been given permission, Matty kicked into full prank mode. Shoelaces were tired together under tables, lettering on signs were rearranged, jackets and hats mysteriously changed tables. Most of what he wanted to do was harmless fun, and it was entertaining to watch him dart around the room and work his magic. Tonight was actually turning out to be pretty fun. I had thought that maybe Matty might feel awkward about it, or maybe I’d feel awkward about it, but things were going really well. It was nice to get the chance to have an evening with just him. Normally it was a group of us and I always felt mildly attention seeking for taking up his time. To have his undivided attention for the whole night left me with a warm feeling. Matty eventually wore himself out, and guests were beginning to get suspicious of the guy who seemed to constantly be in the background of every minor inconvenience. When he seemed satiated prank wise, he managed to con me into getting onto the dancefloor with him. Normally I’d be pretty intimidated about dancing in front of such a judging crowd, but between the good company and the many drinks I’d had, I didn’t really care.

  Suddenly, a bunch of glitter starting spewing out through the vents onto the dance floor. The music stopped, drawing everyone’s attention up to the sparkly downfall. To be honest, this looked far better than any theming the school had done themselves. But I knew this was not something that they had planned.

“I admit, this is pretty impressive.” I said quietly to Matty, who just had a very proud smile.

“See? I told you that we should raise hell.” He laughed loudly.

“I guess it was pretty fun.” I confessed.

“You should really listen to me more.” He said softly, taking my hand in his. I watched the glitter fall for a moment, before looking back down to see him still staring at me. I frowned at him, waiting for him to say something. “You have the cutest smile I’ve ever seen right now.”

“You’re looking pretty starry-eyed yourself there, mister.” I shot back, figuring that he was joking.

“Well, it’s hard not to be when you’ve got the best date in the room.” He added, tugging on my hand, pulling me closer to him.

“Wasn’t that meant to be my plan?” I said with a chuckle.

“After speaking to your classmates, I’m pretty sure you got it backwards.” He answered as I placed a hand on his shoulder.

  A moment or two passed before Matty took in a deep breath. “I was up all week because I was worried about ruining this for you.” He blurted out. “I didn’t want to be a disappointment.”

“You’d never disappoint me.” I dismissed.

“Things are always more daunting when you’re doing them with someone that you’re into, you know.” He explained.

“I… you… what?” In my surprise, I couldn’t get my words out right. Had he not been kidding for the last five minutes with everything that he was saying? A lot of moments over the last six months suddenly made a lot more sense.

“You’re not getting me to say it twice.” He said with a small smile.

“How long?” Was all I could manage to ask.

“For ages.” He said simply. “Why do you think I stayed with you in the hospital? Why do you think I spend so much time with you? Why do you think I bother you so much? You think that it’s me who’s teasing you to the guys, but it’s them teasing me about you.” He answered.

  Everything that I had felt in the hospital was now in the forefront of my mind. Maybe I hadn’t been so crazy to want to flirt with Matty then. Certainly, in this moment, his confession had my heart rate picking up and my mind reeling. “Then what was with all the pranks?” I said, shoving his shoulder slightly.

“Kept your attention, didn’t it?” He chuckled.

“I suppose so.” I agreed. “I think I’m into you too.” I said quietly.

“I know.” He nodded.

“What?”

“You told me so when you first woke up in hospital. You slept for a few hours after that, though.” He elaborated. “You don’t remember?”

I shook my head, but for what I did remember, if I had said that, it made sense. “So… is this a real date then?” I asked out of curiosity.

“It can be.” He shrugged.

“I’d like that.” I smiled, leaning up slightly to catch him off guard and kiss him briefly. “But first, we’d better get out of here before they realise what you did.”

Part One

Part Two

[sunsetinmyvein]

You Better Keep Your Mouth Shut

A fic for someone other than Matty? Miraculous, I know. Thanks for adding some diversity to the mix @robinrunsfiction​ with your request from the prompt list. :P

Why were family events so awkward and stifled? Was it just a prerequisite of getting together with extended family that by default there had to be repeated pleasantries, uncomfortable questions and weird plus ones? Or was that just my family? Thanksgiving was never fun for this exact reason. The food was nice, but having to mentally prepare for at least three days prior for my aunt’s annoying speeches about what she had already accomplished by the time she was my age was not. But it was only once a year. I only had to grin and bear this for just twelve hours, once a year. I could do that. The best bit of this whole weird gathering was that my sister had decided she required a plus one this year. Apparently, she was fed up of the berating from our grandparents about when she was going to get a stable boyfriend, so she had dragged some poor outsider into this mess. However, that outsider happened to be someone that I already knew. Instead of choosing someone from her own social circle (she thought our parents might get suspicious if it was someone that they had already met), she chose someone from mine. Spencer was my best friend, and she had decided to “date” one of his good friends, Ryan.  

 It was pretty obvious that they weren’t actually dating. They were overdoing it. The constant hand holding, the sappy remarks, the sweet smiles - it was sickening. Anyone who was paying attention would be able to notice that all of this intimacy was entirely surface level. There were no stories about how they met, no retelling of funny dates, no actual kisses exchanged. My family seemed to buy it, but I wasn’t. I knew full well Spencer would’ve told me if Ryan started dating my sister. But it definitely gave the extended family something new to discuss and fuss over. I’d only met this guy a handful of times in passing over the years and he seemed fairly reserved from what I had seen. Spencer usually talked highly of him. But here he was, fake dating my sister and trying to charm a family that wasn’t his own. The whole charade was leaving a bitter taste. My family were shitty to deal with, sure, but it was still pretty underhanded to deceive them like this. I thought better of my sister than to pull a stunt like this, and I thought Spencer kept better friends than this, too. Apparently not.

  “What do you do for work, Ryan?” I heard my dad ask as I tuned back in to the dinner conversation.

“Yes, Ross. Enlighten us.” I chimed in, putting my phone down to hear his answer. I had been texting Spencer to ask if he knew about this or not (he didn’t), and to cross check what Ryan was saying. So far, everything he’d said tonight had been a lie. Where his family lived, what he was studying, he was painting the picture of a perfect boyfriend.

“Is there a reason you never say my first name?” He asked with a frown.

“Well, from the brief time that I’ve known you, I just don’t think that we’re familiar enough to be on a first name basis.” I answered with a fake smile.

“He’s your sister’s boyfriend!” My mother chastised.

“Well, he should act more like it then.” I muttered under my breath.

“What?”

“Nothing.” I quickly dismissed. “So?” I asked, turning back to Ryan.

  “I’m an intern at a law firm.” He absolutely was fucking not.

“Oh, that’s good!” My uncle beamed. “Must be lining you up for a good paying job?”

“Yeah, I hope so!” The dark-haired boy laughed nervously.

“What firm are you at?” Now this was going to be interesting.

“Uh…” His wide-eyed floundering made it clear that he hadn’t been prepared with details to support his lie. Thankfully, my sister quickly came to his aid and rattled off some firm that she had heard of. Good save.

“That’s a really good place. They’ll set you up well to take care my little niece here.” He said as he placed an affectionate hand on said niece’s shoulder.

“Only the best for my love.” Gross. I needed to get some air or I was going to throw up all my turkey from how soppy that was.

“I need a drink.” I sighed, excusing myself from the table.

  Sure enough, as soon as I started pouring something into my glass, Ryan walked into the kitchen too. I couldn’t even get one moment of peace this evening. Great. He wandered aimlessly around the room, opening a few cupboards before turning to me.

“Hey, where’s the-”

“You’re not in love with her, are you?” I interrupted.

“I, uh… Yeah, I am.” He tried his best to defend himself, while also vehemently avoiding my gaze.

“No, you’re not.” I said, shaking my head.

He cleared his throat and glanced at the doorway before speaking, “What makes you say that?”

“I know my sister well enough to see when she’s faking it.” I answered simply.

He let out a long sigh, looking torn about whether or not to admit it. “Look, could you just keep this between us?” He said eventually.

“Why would I? What’s in it for me?” I scoffed as I kept making my drink.

  “I dunno. I’ll give you fifty bucks or something.” He said with a shrug.

“You’re trying to bribe me for my silence?” I laughed loudly; Ryan quickly shushed me in response.

“No, I- ugh. What do you want?” He grumbled in frustration. “Can’t you just drop it?”

“Why are you even doing this?” I frowned, dodging his question. “Actually, never mind, do I even want to know?” I added as I placed the tonic water back in the fridge.

“I offered to do it as a favour when she suggested asking someone.” He replied, still looking around the kitchen for whatever he was after.

“You instigated this?” I asked in surprise.

“Yes. To help your sister out.” He said with a nod. Hm. I supposed maybe he wasn’t such an asshole after all. “Got it!” He said, proudly holding a jar of relish as he left the kitchen.

  As expected, the silence was short lived. When Ryan left, my mother came in looking like she was on a mission.

“What’ve you got against that boy?” She asked in a stern tone as I poured the gin into my drink.

“I just don’t think he’s good for her, is all.” I answered vaguely.

“Why?” She interrogated. I shrugged, but apparently that answer wasn’t good enough. “Why?” She repeated.

“They don’t seem like they’ll be together long.” I tried my best to dodge her question. She stared at me for a long moment before deciding that was acceptable. And thankfully she dropped the topic before I spoke on it any further.

“Can you bring the pie in with you?” She asked sweetly as she grabbed a stack of dessert plates.

“Sure.” I mumbled as she walked out. Before I even moved to grab the pie, I poured myself a straight shot of the gin. I was going to need something strong to get through this evening.

  By the time I finally came back into the room, Ryan was in the middle of regaling some story to try and get my family to like him more. But it was only a matter of time before he put his foot in it. “I was at practice the other day-”

“Practice?” My dad asked in curiosity.

“Band-” He realised what he’d said as soon as the word left his lips. But he’d said it now, there was no taking it back. “Band practice, yeah.” He admitted sheepishly. I saw my uncle share a look with my dad over this new information. A junior lawyer in a band? They were right to be suspicious.

“You’re in a band?” My sister gawked. She didn’t even know he was in a band with Spencer! What, had they exchanged all of five sentences before tonight?

“Yeah.” He nodded. “I could put you on the guestlist one night, if you’d like?” He offered with a smile.

“I’d like that.” I piped up.

“Oh, I… Yeah… Okay.” He stumbled, looking like he hadn’t expected me to take him up on that. Maybe it was the gin going to my head, but I suspected maybe I could have a little fun with this to make tonight a bit more interesting.

  The drinks did indeed make things much easier. They also made a lot of this funnier. I watched Ryan and my sister fawning over each other during dessert, and it was no longer gross, now it was just humorous. After my dad cleared away the plates, they were exchanging romantic comments and staring at each other wistfully.

“Gosh, when’s that gonna happen for me?” I asked with a faux dreamy expression.

“Huh?” Ryan asked in confusion.

“When will I land myself a boyfriend like you?” I elaborated.

“Maybe if you had kept your last job you might’ve met someone there.” I heard my aunt say. But her passive aggressive comments weren’t going to sway me this time.

“It’s a shame Ryan isn’t single.” I pouted. Ryan choked on his drink as I said it, instantly spluttering all over the table. He excused himself and ducked to the bathroom, leaving me trying very hard to not break into hysterics. I suspected I hadn’t been too far off the mark when I picked him to be quite shy, because it seemed that legitimate flirting (not fake flirting) was something he couldn’t handle.

  It was pretty easy to carry on like that once I got the ball rolling. And by some stroke of dumb luck, my parents saw it as me warming up to Ryan rather than me messing with him. Whenever the night was nearing its end, I kicked Ryan’s shin under the table to catch his attention. He looked over at me with an exasperated expression, obviously fed up of having to tolerate my antics.

I leant in before speaking, making sure I had his full attention, “I really, really want to kiss you right now.” I said quietly.

His eyebrows shot up in shock, his mouth opening and closing a few times while he clearly tried to think of what to respond. “I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic.” He eventually settled on. I just shrugged. “Why would you want to?” He questioned.

“To start drama.” I chuckled.

“Do you do this stuff at all of your family events?” He asked, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Only the boring ones.” I grinned.

“Remind me to never help your sister out again.” He sighed as he turned back to the conversation happening on the other side of the table.

  My fun didn’t last too much longer after that. The sun had well and truly set, and people wanted to get home, which was my cue to leave. I wasn’t going to hang around here longer than I was obligated to. Once everyone had grabbed their leftovers and sorted themselves out, we were left with the awkward goodbyes on the driveway.

“It’s been a great evening.” I said, before grinning in Ryan’s direction.

“It’s been… an evening.” Ryan sighed.

“Aw, you didn’t have fun?” I asked with a laugh.

“Lovely to see you!” My uncle said, cutting my teasing off as he and my aunt exchanged their parting pleasantries.

“We’ll have to do this again sometime.” I said as I opened my car door. Ryan gave me a look like he’d sooner pass out before stepping foot into this house again.

[sunsetinmyvein]

Don’t Panic

The next prompt from the prompt list~ Thank you kindly for the suggestion @robinrunsfiction​

“Patrick.” I said, looking at my boyfriend’s knuckles turning white against the cramped plane seat.

“What?” He snapped as he turned to me with panicked eyes.

I placed a hand on his shoulder in an effort to be comforting, “It’ll be okay.” I reassured him.

“You don’t know that.” He argued as he went back to staring out the window of and watching us take off.

“I do know.” I shot back. He looked at me in confusion. “There were only 26 fatal plane crashes last year.” I quoted.

“That’s a lot.” He said, his voice cracking slightly.

“Out of 31 million.” I continued. Knowing of Patrick’s fear of flying I’d been researching all this week for information that might make this slightly easier on him. I figured if I had enough facts to rebut his fears, maybe he would be able to relax a bit.

He took a moment to process the statistic, taking off his hat and resting it on his knee so that he could run a hand through his short, blonde hair, “Well… that’s… I suppose…” He stumbled over his words, before nodding and looking back out the window.

 I took his hand in mine to stop him from digging his nails into the armrest. “At least tell me why?” I asked gently.

“Why what?” He muttered.

“Why are you scared of flying?” I clarified with a small smile.

He let out a deep sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand. After a minute of what I assumed was trying to compose his thoughts, he met my gaze. “Because, er…” He started. “It’s just…” His eyes flicked down to my lips before he groaned. “Quit smiling at me, I can’t stop messing up my sentences when you look at me like that and I’m focusing on not dying.” Patrick said.

“Good, let me be a distraction from it.” I grinned, and saw him trying his best not to smile before he clearly got caught up in his own thoughts again.  

“Planes just… shouldn’t work. How does this tonne of metal, and people, and bags stay in the air?” He eventually answered - I felt his hand tense around mine as he said it.

“You want me to explain the science behind it?” I offered.

“No. The science doesn’t make it make sense.” He said, shaking his head.

  It was hard to try and distract a man who didn’t want to be distracted. He just seemed to wallow in his fear, which then just created a vicious cycle of making it worse.

“You see, it-”

“Shh… listen…” I interrupted, holding my hand in front of his face and feigning like I was listening to something.

“To what??” He asked urgently. “What is it??” His tone was quickly increasing in volume.

“That’s the sound of me falling in love with you.” I said seriously.

He let out an incredulous laugh. “That’s not helping.”

“Are you sure? You’re smiling now.” I chuckled, nudging his shoulder with mine.

“Maybe it’s helping a little bit.” He conceded.

  The take-off continued without a hitch, as expected. Patrick continued to nearly hyperventilate, as expected. But once we were travelling smoothly, I heard his breathing even out slightly. He started rattling off odd little tidbits he knew about flying.

“I hear it gets cold, when we hit cruising altitude.” He mentioned offhandedly.

“Good thing you’re really warm.” I said, winking at him.

“Am I?” He questioned, looking like he was blushing slightly as the steward handed us our dinners.

“Here, eat your tiny little sectioned out meal,” I said, handing it across to him, “drink the free booze, and then take a nap with me.” I suggested while he peeled the foil off the top.

“I dunno if I’ll be able to get to sleep.” He grimaced.

“Then drink more miniature bottles of liquor.” I said with a laugh. “It’ll go faster if you sleep.”

He took a sip of the dark liquor in his plastic cup, looking like for the first time since we stepped onto the plane that he might be able to relax. “With you next to me, I think I can manage that.” He smiled, pulling me in close to him and pressing a kiss to my temple.

[sunsetinmyvein]

You Pick a Fight P1

Next prompt, next prompt, next prompt! Requested by @imagine-that-100 off the prompt liiiiiist :P This was the request:

It was sweltering. This heat wave was borderline unbearable. But thank god George’s parents place had a pool. After them asking George to housesit for the weekend while they were away, we all promptly invited ourselves over to take advantage of the circumstances.

“I am so keen to jump onto that giant flamingo thing.” I declared as I stepped outside.

“Oh, really?” Matty asked with interest, sitting up in his seat slightly.

I flipped my sunglasses down to try and deflect some of the glare off the white pavement. “Been dying to all day.” I confirmed.

He let out a low whistle, and I looked over to him to see a look of pure mischief on his face. “Well, you’d better hope I don’t beat you to it.”

“What? No!” I frowned.

“Yes.” He nodded as he stood up.

“You just want it because I want it!” I debated loudly.

“You have no evidence of that.” He chuckled as he walked around the edge of the pool and picked up the big pink floatie.

 I watched in horror as Matty stole my flamingo and jumped into the pool. He came back out of the water with his short curls all stuck to his forehead, smiling triumphantly at me as he clambered onto the floatie. It was a solid minute of me staring at him, trying to calculate my next move. I could feel the other guy’s eyes on me as they watched this unfold in amusement.

“Give me the fucking floatie.” I said through gritted teeth.

“Make me.” He shot back.

“You fucker.” I growled as I jumped into the water after him, trying to land on the floatie and pull it down with me to get him off of it. Unfortunately, I missed, which just made Matty laugh harder. I tried then to flip it from underneath, grabbing the side of it and pushing up. But still, he held his balance.

“You done yet?” He smirked down at me.

“I could literally strangle you right now and no one would stop me.” I said as I tried to think of another plan.

“Aw.” He cooed. “I like it when you’re romantic.”

 In the end, I had no plan left other than just to try and fight it off of him. “Give it!” I shouted as I grabbed the edge of it and yanked as hard as I could.

“No!” He shouted back.

“Are you two not nearly thirty? You’re acting like children.” I heard Ross say with a loud laugh.

“I fucking had it first!” Matty argued.

“Yeah but I called it first!” I pushed the point as he slapped my hands off the flamingo.

“Would you two just stop it?” Adam sighed.

“But Matty’s being a dick!” I whined.

“Matty’s always a dick.” George pointed out.

“I wanted the floatie.”

“Just go get one of the others.” The drummer reasoned.

I let out a defeated groan, “Fine.” I grumbled, before turning to glare at Matty. “But this isn’t over.”

Part two

Part three

[sunsetinmyvein]

Put My Heart Under Arrest

Another Matty prompt list oneshot, requested by the ever lovely @aphxsia​~

“Ahhh, fuck…” I muttered to myself as I checked my pockets, realising that they did not contain my keys. I’d left them at that guys place, hadn’t I? That was going to be an awkward conversation later today, ‘Hey, sorry I bailed without saying anything this morning. Do you have my keys? No, don’t want a second date. Just my keys. Thanks, though.’ Ugh. Great. Now I’d just have to awkwardly stand outside my flat, slightly hungover, in the clothes that I wore yesterday, waiting for someone to hopefully rock up who had a key to the building. Standard Sunday morning, right? There wasn’t really a way to make this appear any nicer to those walking by than what it was, either. I sort of just had to eye the people ambling along the street, seeing if I recognised anyone from my building or hope that someone came out of the building who recognised me and would let me in. But finally, I spotted someone. There was a guy coming my way with a familiar mop of curly hair. He lived in my building; I was certain of it. I was fairly sure he actually lived on my floor. He didn’t seem to be around a lot of the time, but I’d seen him around the place here and there as we were coming and going. He seemed nice enough from the brief exchanges we’d had, but we’d not ever really spoken more than the odd ‘hi’ in passing. I suppose now was going to be our first proper interaction. Judging by the state of the floral button-down shirt that he was wearing, his dishevelled hair, the five o’clock shadow, it looked like he was doing exactly what I was. I flashed him a friendly smile, trying my best to seem approachable.

  He slipped his sunglasses off his nose as he walked up to me, tucking them into his shirt pocket. The way he was looking at me gave me the impression he was making the same conclusions about my morning as I had about his.

“Locked out?” He asked with an eyebrow raised.

“Uh, yes.” I confirmed sheepishly. “It’s Matthew, right?” I was fairly sure that was the name I had seen floating around.  

“That’s me.” He said with a nod.

“Can you let me in?” I asked hopefully.

He let out a sigh, but the look in his dark brown eyes seemed amused by this whole situation. “Sure.” He shrugged as he stepped around me and headed towards the door.

  “So… Bad date?” He asked over his shoulder, fishing his keys out of his back pocket.

“What makes you think that?” I asked with a slight feeling of defensiveness. Was it really that obvious?

“Why else would you be sneaking home so early?” He laughed. “And wearing what you were wearing when I saw you last night.” He added as he pulled the door open for us.

“You saw me last night?” I asked in surprise.

“Saw you jumping into a taxi as I was leaving myself.” He answered. That made sense, I supposed. But I was none the less impressed he remembered such a brief moment when we hadn’t even spoken.

“There was… a lot of room for improvement.” I eventually offered, not wanting to discuss details. “You?”

“Mm, about the same.” He nodded, pressing the button for the lift.

  As we stepped inside, I watched out of the corner of my eye while punching in my- our floor as he pulled a tiny bottle out of his pocket. It looked like one of those little bottles of liquor you get from a hotel minibar. “Is that vodka?” I frowned. He just grunted in response as he twisted the cap off and knocked back the bottle. The sight made my stomach turn. To drink straight vodka so early? I needed to be pretty drunk to be able to tolerate it at all, let alone at this hour. “Isn’t it only seven in the morning?” I asked in shock.

“Hair of the dog.” He explained as he shoved the empty bottle back into his pocket. “What was so bad about him?” He asked.

I groaned, trying to work out how to explain it without taking up half an hour of this guy’s time. “Uh, well, it turned out his dog died yesterday. So, most of the date was spent with him crying.” I winced at the memory. “I felt bad for leaving him by himself when he was clearly in need of company. But we just didn’t click and he clearly needs time.” I explained.

“That was really nice of you.” Matthew said with a reassuring smile. “Hopefully the next one is better.” I felt like maybe I should ask what was so bad about his own date, but we didn’t really have the time in this short lift ride.

“I’ve been on more than enough mediocre dates to have had my fill.” He just chuckled quietly. “Starting to think I should take a break from the dating game.” I huffed.

  There was a beat of silence as the lift came to a stop on our floor. “I don’t think you should give up so soon.” He eventually chimed in, rocking onto the balls of his feet as the door opened.

“Oh?”

“I’m sure I could take you on a good date.” He suggested nonchalantly.

“You’re sure, huh?” I questioned. The confidence behind the offer made it ten times more tempting.

“You’re just down the hall on the left, yeah?” He asked as he held his hand up to the lift door, holding it open for me to walk out.

“That’s me.” I confirmed.

“I’ll come grab you on Saturday at six.” He grinned.

[sunsetinmyvein]

You Pick a Fight - P2

Eyyyyy it’s prompt time. I have since forgotten what prompt’s @imagine-that-100​ gave me from the prompt list for this part two, but hopefully you enjoy it anyway. :P

And I was right, because it wasn’t over. The pool incident was just the start of much more bickering and fighting over nothing that was set to come during the months between Matty and I. We hadn’t known each other all that well prior to that day, but it definitely set the bar for future interactions. Being argumentative and stubborn was just a habit neither of us could break, much to all of our mutual friend’s annoyance. It might’ve been on the verge of immature, since we were both pushing thirty, but neither of us cared. And we never really meant it. Grudges about stolen floaties were not held for long. It was a rare occasion that we genuinely made up and said sorry, but typically by the end of the day we had either forgotten about it or played some prank on the other to feel avenged about our wrong doing. Over the course of many months of arguing and pranking, Matty and I inevitably became closer. Realistically, Matty was probably one of my best friends by this point in my life. We saw each other at least a couple of times a week for various reasons and I enjoyed his company (mostly). But that wasn’t going to stop me from trying to constantly one-up him and make sure I destroy him any time he challenges me to anything. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, right? You gotta know your opponent’s weaknesses to best exploit them.

 However, tonight was our regularly scheduled movie night. So, more than likely no arguing would be occurring tonight. The movie had already been picked by democratic vote by the group, which meant there would be no debates about that. Everyone was bringing their own snacks, nothing to fight over. And we rotated who hosted, so no arguments there either. This week it was Matty’s turn. Last week when it had been at my flat, we had picked a comedy movie to watch and ended up receiving a noise complaint from my neighbour about us being “too rambunctious”. I was hoping that we wouldn’t have the same issue to deal with this week given Matty’s much thicker walls. I was cutting up a tray of brownies that I was graciously bringing to share - one of which may or may not have been spiked with cayenne pepper just to spite Matty for last week when he mixed my bag of skittles with m+m’s - while I replayed the events of last week. The details of the movie were actually a bit of a blur, because after the few drinks that I had downed after a rough day at work, I recalled falling asleep. When I woke up, I found myself snoring on Matty’s shoulder. God, that was utterly embarrassing. Other than my snoring, to wake up cosying up to Matty? I’d rather be caught dead. But I must have been too distracted by these memories, because as I was cutting, I slipped and managed to slice open my thumb with my new knife.

  I felt the cut the instant it happened, bracing myself for what I might see before I looked down. Sure as shit, all I saw was a lot of red. The first thought to run through my head was that my brownie plan was ruined. I couldn’t serve brownies that had been doused in blood. The second was that I absolutely needed to seal this wound as soon as possible. I raced to the bathroom, grabbing a roll of gauze and wrapping it around my thumb as tightly as I could. Do I call an ambulance? No, this wasn’t an ambulance sort of emergency. Emergency, though. I should go to the emergency room. Now. But I had to let the guys know I wasn’t coming. I could see the gauze starting to turn red as I searched my phone for Matty’s contact. Fuck, I felt so bad for bailing on this movie night given it was our regular thing, but this was really not good. Really, really not good. The phone rang twice before he picked up.

  “Hey-”

“Look, I need to go to emergency.” I interrupted in a garbled rush.

“What?” He shouted down the line.

“I need to go to hospital, so I’m not gonna make it tonight.” I explained, slightly slower.

“What did you do?” He asked in an incredulous tone.

“I sliced my thumb open cutting brownies.” I just heard him laughing. “It’s not funny, Matty. I need stitches.” I frowned as I started to grab my essentials. What if they wanted to keep me in overnight? Oh my god, I was absolutely not prepared for something like this. I should have a go bag. Is that a thing normal people did? Have a go bag in case they accidentally injure themselves? Maybe smart people did.

“Do you need me to drive you?” He offered as I was contemplating what exactly I would put in a go bag.

“What? Uh, no. I’m okay. I think.” I rattled off.

“I’ll meet you there.” I heard him say. He what? Why would he want to come to the hospital?

“Wait. No, you don’t-” But he’d already hung up.

  Before I left the house, I slapped another few layers of bandage over the gauze on my thumb to try and put some pressure on this cut that was apparently bleeding like a tap by the rate it was turning things red. Driving to the hospital with a thumb as fat as mine was with all the bandages wrapped around it was not easy to say the least, but I managed to get there in one piece. Once I had gotten there, paid for my parking, and then managed to check myself into the ER, I was able to take a seat and decompress slightly. But, the peace and quiet didn’t last long, because not even five minutes after I sat down a familiar face entered through the sliding glass doors.

“Good job.” Matty said as he approached, with a slow clap for emphasis.

“Don’t patronise me.” I scoffed.

“Show me.” He said as he took a seat in the uncomfortable plastic chair next to my own.

“It’s okay-”

“Just show me what you did.” He dismissed.

“I mean, I can’t really take this stuff off-” I gestured to my half blood-soaked bandages, “-or it’ll bleed worse.”

He let out a low whistle as he raked a hand through his curls. “Bloody hell.” He muttered under his breath, before glancing up at me. “Pardon the pun.” He added with a smirk.

“Shut up. It’s really not as bad as it looks.” I lied. I was trying to play it down, to pretend like I hadn’t briefly seen how deep that knife went, but I knew that this was definitely very vital that I see a doctor very fucking soon.

He met my gaze, clearly seeing the stress I was trying to hide. “You’re not very convincing.” He chuckled.

  Despite my protests about him wanting to wait with me, Matty continued to ramble on about what he had done earlier in the day while we sat in the crowded waiting room. He also told me not to worry about cancelling on the movie night, and thanked me for trying to make brownies. If only he had known what his brownie was going to taste like. But at least he was distracting me from the weird sensation in my thumb. After about half an hour, I was called through to be seen by the nurse - which realistically just meant that I sat and waited in another room for a further ten minutes until I was finally seen by someone. When she walked in, she introduced herself and asked for a run down of the situation as she started gathering some supplies. After I had explained what I had done, she started moving towards my giant wad of bloody fabric.

“I’m gonna look away.” I warned the nurse, she just nodded in response. I felt her unravelling the bandages on my thumb, trying really hard to busy myself by studying the vision tester chart on the wall. She let out a quiet hum as she analysed the situation.

“All right. I am going to put some glue on this now to hold it, but we are going to need to anaesthetise you to properly sort this out. Is that okay?” She asked in a calm tone. They were going to knock me out? It was bad enough to need to be knocked out for?? Holy shit.

“Um, yep.” I nodded. “I suppose it’ll have to be.” I added with a nervous laugh. “When will that be?”

“As soon as they can get you in. Likely in the next few hours.” She answered.

  When I came back out of the nurse’s station, I sat back down and told Matty what they had said.

“They need to sedate you?” He asked in shock.

“I’ve apparently done quite a number on myself.” I could feel the stress building up as the realisation set in. Oh my god. I had cut off my thumb. I had cut off my thumb and now they needed to reattach it. Holy fuck. Holy fuck.

“Hey, calm down.” He reassured, placing his hand on my shoulder. “It’ll be all right.”

“But what if it’s too late? What if I cut too far? What if-”

Thankfully, Matty interrupted my downward spiral of anxiety. “They would’ve told you if that were the case. They’re going to operate, so it must be fine.” He moved to take my good hand in his, squeezing it reassuringly. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing mind as I nodded in agreement. At least one of us was the voice of reason right now. “When are you going in?” He questioned, seeming genuinely sympathetic.

“They said as soon as possible. I just have to wait here until a theatre frees up.” I replied. He just nodded thoughtfully. “You should go back to the movie night.” I said, eventually feeling guilty that he’d already been sat waiting here for an hour.

“No.” He shook his head as he rifled through his pocket. “You want some gum?” He asked, holding a packet out in my direction.

I looked down at them apprehensively. “They’re not some ridiculous flavour, are they?”

He laughed loudly. “No, I threw the wasabi ones out.”

  It was another hour before I was finally called through to get ready for theatre. Now I was genuinely feeling pretty awful that Matty had been here this whole time. We had well and truly pushed past dinner time, he’d missed the movie, our friends were all sat at his place without him. He can’t have been having a good time stuck here with me.

“Okay, I gotta go in.” I said as I stood up.

“I’ll be here when you wake up.” He smiled up at me from his seat.

“Just go home, I’ll be fine.” I said as I gestured to the door.

“No.” He grinned.

“Go.”

“No.” His dark brown eyes bore into mine, clearly challenging me to push him further on the subject.

“I hate you, so much.” I grumbled as I heard the nurse call my name again.

“I love you, too.” He said, blowing a kiss for emphasis as I walked off.

  The doctors all reassured me that the operation was going to be quick and easy. Knock me out, stitch me up, wake me up fifteen minutes later. Easy peasy. I had never had any issues with operations, being knocked out was easy. It was the stuff you had to be awake for that was hard. True to their word, when I saw the clock when I started coming to, it had been no more than half an hour than when I last checked the time. But my god I felt groggy. My brain felt like it had been replaced with a bunch of cotton balls and my eyelids might as well have been made of lead. I glanced down at my thumb, seeing a much smaller pile of bandages on there, that were now thankfully not soaked in blood. That was nice. I then caught sight of the man sat next to my bed.

“Hey, you’re up.” Matty said quietly as he stepped over. As soon as he leaned over the bed frame, the fluorescent lights above him just illuminated his dark, curly hair. Holy shit. It looked borderline angelic. “How’re you feeling?”

“Your hair…” I mumbled as I reached out my good hand to touch it.

He seemed surprised by my actions at first, before letting my run a hand through it. “What about it?” He asked with a quiet laugh.

“It’s really soft.” I answered, genuinely quite surprised by how nice it felt. “Has it always been that soft?” I felt like I had been missing out. I could’ve been touching this hair for nearly a year now and instead I had been swapping his shampoo for ranch dressing and perfume.

  Matty seemed keen to indulge my anaesthesia haze, letting me bother him with all of my weird questions about his hair. Maybe he wasn’t such a bad guy. I did a lot of mean shit to him and here he was, sat with me in emergency all evening instead of hanging out with his friends. After the pranks I’d pulled, I likely didn’t deserve a friend like him. But he’d pulled them on me too. We were a pretty good pair, I suppose. And I had no idea if it was this lighting or what, but dare I say, Matty was looking pretty attractive today. Had I really just been so focused on butting heads with him that I never noticed these things before?

“Are you sure you really look this good? I feel like I must still be dreaming.” I said, pretending to shield my eyes.

He frowned, before the realisation dawned on him and his eyebrows shot up in surprise, “Are you flirting with me?”

“Maybe.” I shrugged.

“Don’t use cheesy pickup lines on me.” He chuckled.

“How else am I meant to pick you up?” I scoffed as I rolled my eyes.

“Are you trying to?” He asked as a smile slowly made its way onto his face.

“Maaaaybe.” I said in an attempt to be non-committal, but then my curiosity got the better of me. “Is it working?”

“I’m gonna remind you of this when you’re properly out of the anaesthetic.” He just looked amused. Not the reaction I had hoped for. But I was too tired to keep trying to come up with clever lines.

“Okay.” I muttered, nodding softly. “Gon’ sleep now, though.” I added.

“Rest up.” He agreed. “You’re gonna need all the energy you can get to deal with me giving you shit for this tomorrow.”  

Part one

Part three

[sunsetinmyvein]

If You Don’t Shoot, Then You’ll Never Know

Next prompt from the prompt list! Thanks @jagz72​ for the request :D

Why did it have to start raining right now? As if this day couldn’t have gotten any fucking worse. I finally had a job interview lined up after months of struggling to land one. But then my nice pants got a tear in them when they snagged on a loose nail on my dresser. At least I had a pair of backup pants, that were not as nice but they would do the trick. After that I burnt my toast in the toaster. Annoying, but a minor issue in the grand scheme of things. Then! My car broke down and wouldn’t start. Thankfully, I had realised it soon enough to have been able to sort something out in regards to getting to the interview on time. However, as I was walking to the bus stop the sky decided to open up and begin this sudden downpour. Life was just telling me not to go to this interview. I had quickly ducked into a nearby alcove on the side of the street to try and escape the rain, hoping that I could salvage these clothes without having to go home and change. I didn’t even know what I would change into if I had to do that, this was my last decent job interview outfit. As I was standing there cursing my terrible luck, I heard someone clear their throat, making me jump. I spun around, surprised to see a man standing in the doorway of the house I had apparently jumped in front of. He had a set of dark brown curls on his head, shaved back into a haphazard mohawk, equally dark brown eyes and he looked like he was maybe in his late twenties, early thirties? But most notably he looked like he had just woken up, judging by the rumpled-up jumper and sweat pants he was wearing, and the state of his bed hair.

“Erm, can I… help you with anything?” He asked, his brows knitting together in a concerned frown.

“Oh! Uh, not really, I think.” I quickly dismissed with a sheepish smile. “Just trying to get out of the rain so I can stay dry for this job interview.” I explained.

“You’re welcome to come inside?” He offered, holding the door open further.

“Ah, I’m all right.” I shook my head as a gust of wind spat a bunch of the rain into my face.

“At the very least just step inside to stay dry until this passes.” He said with a sincere expression. I looked at him for a moment, before deciding it was dumb of me to stand in this weather if someone was offering shelter.

“Yeah, okay.” I nodded, shivering slightly. “Thanks.”

  I stepped inside, taking in the very concrete hallway in front of me. It felt almost as cold in here as what it did outside but at least it was dry.

“I’m Matty, by the way.” He said as he stuck his hand out. I told him my name as I shook it, “You want a cup of tea?” He asked, walking off into one of the rooms.

I glanced out the doorway, seeing the rain still pelting down outside and decided to shut it, “I probably won’t be here very long, I’ve got a bus to try and catch.” I called out.

“Well, I hate to break it to you but you’re probably not gonna make it.” He chuckled.

“But I’ve gotta make it…” I mumbled to myself.

“This weather isn’t meant to let up for a few hours.” He said as I wandered in the direction that he had headed in. The hallway opened up into a large living area with a sizeable kitchen. “Where are you headed?” He asked as he looked up at me.

“I’m trying to get to a job interview. This is the first one I’ve been able to get in weeks.” I explained. He nodded in understanding, handing me the cup of tea I hadn’t asked for, but gratefully took anyway.

  There was a brief moment of silence as I awkwardly stood in this stranger’s kitchen. The sounds of us drinking our tea were all that filled the room for a while as I contemplated if I was about to get murdered. He seemed to be internally debating something.

“Let me give you a ride to this job interview.” He finally said, after taking a sip from his mug.

“No, no, no. You don’t have to do that.” I instantly declined.

“How far is it?”

“Maybe, um, fifteen minutes?” I estimated.

“Then let’s go.” He said as he stepped away from the kitchen counter.

“No, I can’t let you do-”

“It’s fine, seriously.” He interrupted. I eventually conceded, deciding I should take my change in luck for what it was worth, otherwise I wasn’t going to make it to this interview anyway.

  We clambered into his car and he quickly punched into his phone where I had to go, and it turned out that it was only ten minutes away. I was going to be early. What a relief. I finally had a moment to decompress and take in the events of this morning. And what a fucking morning. Then all of a sudden, this guy just swooped in and saved the day. An incredibly attractive guy, now that I thought about it. Which was a thought I wish I hadn’t had, because as soon as it was in my brain, it was impossible to get it out. I was currently stuck in a car with a dude who was probably way out of my league but yet had for whatever reason, kindly enough had let me into his house, given me a cup of tea, offered to take me to this interview… This was surreal to say the least. I saw out of the corner of my eye as he looked across at me, and I tried very hard to not look back in case he saw me freaking out, but it was too late.

  “Are you blushing?” He asked, sounding amused.

“Uh, kind of.” I admitted nervously.

“Why?” He laughed.

“Well, for a start, this is incredibly embarrassing.” I answered, now looking over at him as he glanced back to the road.

“For a start?” He prompted.

“Also because you’re cute.” I muttered under my breath as I stared back out my window, but not before I saw the corny grin spread across his face.

“You reckon?” He mused. I just stayed silent. This was a line of questioning my brain wasn’t ready to deal with right now. Thankfully, he dropped it and continued the rest of the drive with just the radio offering background noise.

  “This the place?” He asked as we pulled up.

“Yep.” I nodded eagerly, already unbuckling my seatbelt. “Thank you so much, uh…” I paused for a moment, realising I had forgotten his name.

“Matty.” He reminded me with a smirk as he fumbled around in the centre console.

“Matty.” I repeated. “Thanks.”

“It’s no problem. Hope you get the job.” He said as I went to jump out of the car. Before I could, I felt his hand land on my shoulder. I stopped, turning back to see him holding out a small slip of paper with some numbers scrawled across it. “Here.” He offered, and I frowned back at him, waiting for him to explain. “For if you need any rides in the future.”

If I hadn’t been blushing before, I definitely was now. “Oh, um… Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.” I said as I took the paper and stared at it in bewilderment for a second.

“Or, you know, for a coffee.” He continued with a smile.

I just laughed, unable to fully take in the fact that this guy was asking me on a date right before my job interview, lest I fuck up the interview. But the offer was too good to turn down. “That sounds nicer than bumming lifts off you.”

“Look forward to it.” He grinned.

[sunsetinmyvein]

The Tension’s Overflowing P2

Surprise! If it wasn’t obvious, that wasn’t the end. :P Both @tooshhhy​ and @imagine-that-100​ sent me the same context of “ I’m drunk on public transport and you’re high and we both keep looking at each other knowingly” and the more I thought about it, the more I was like “Hm. I can make these link up.” which was why it was taken a ‘smidge in my own direction’ lol. So, here’s the second prompt from my fantastic prompt list. 

Part One

It hadn’t been a great idea to down that last drink before I left the bar. I didn’t feel nauseous (thankfully), but I sure as shit felt lightheaded. My co-workers had wanted to go out after work for a drink, since a bunch of us had the day off tomorrow. Which was nice, until it got late and they wanted to bail and head home for the night. I wasn’t going to waste half a pint that I’d paid for. That’s ridiculous. However, we’d been out since we knocked off, and it was nearly one in the morning now. That was a decent while to have been drinking. I probably should’ve allowed myself to waste that money and leave the half-drunk pint on the table. Because now, sat on the tube on the way home, having the carriage spin slightly every time I moved my head wasn’t an ideal situation. At least I could be grateful that it was fairly empty and I could wallow in my thoughts in peace and quiet. But that peace was short lived.

  I was snapped out of my drunken haze when a man got on at the next stop and sat across from me. His unruly curls were a fucking mess, his leather jacket looked well worn, and the sunglasses sitting on the bridge of his nose just came across as obnoxious. But that… that looked like Matty. His hair was different, and he didn’t usually have stubble adorning his chin like that, but I was about 98% sure that was Matty. He must’ve been high, or drunk, or something, there was no other reason that he’d be wearing such dark shades at this hour. Which was annoying because it meant that I couldn’t tell if he was looking at me or not. If he’d even recognised me or not. I hadn’t seen him in years. Despite that it was me who had suggested the distance between us, it had been him who ultimately enforced it. As tour took off and the full-length album came out, he was suddenly incredibly unavailable – even if I had wanted to hang out. Time differences and busy schedules meant that we lost touch, and things just… fizzled out. Ross was the only member of the band that I still kind of kept in contact with these days. I had all but forgotten about that drunken night where I passed out at his place. But now, being faced with the man in question, everything was being dredged up again. This was the absolute last place I wanted to be. As I sat there over analysing this development in my Wednesday night and progressively sobering up the more that I realised the situation, I was suddenly even more mortified when he got up and crossed the carriage.

  I shrank back in my seat as he sat next to me. “Hey.” He said quietly, without looking at me.

“Hi.” I mumbled back.

“Been keeping well?” He asked.

I just nodded, letting the silence linger for a second before deciding it was probably polite to ask him as well. After all, we were stuck here together and it was likely he wasn’t going to go away, if the things I knew about him still rung true. “You?”

“Pretty good, y’know, touring and stuff.” He said with a dry chuckle. “Things are pretty different these days.” He added with a shrug.

“I can imagine.” I agreed. This conversation made the whole damn train carriage feel stifling. Why would Matty have thought that this was going to be anything other than awkward when he came over here? He should’ve just left it. Should’ve just continued in awkward silence and left without saying a word. That would’ve been much easier on my brain. That would’ve been a million times-

  “I’m sorry.”

I stared at him in bewilderment as I tried to process those words. “What?” I asked, watching as he took his shades off and rubbed at his eyes.

“I’m sorry.” He muttered again. “For being a cocky prick when I was younger.”

He was apologising...? If I wasn’t fucking thrown for a loop by just seeing Matty after so long, having this conversation right now while half-cut was just making my brain reel. “Are you saying you’re not a cocky prick now?” I asked, again taking in the sunglasses, jacket, the overall look.

“No, I am.” He laughed with a nod. “I’m just more self-aware about it now.” And just like that, the awkward atmosphere broke away. I couldn’t help but laugh, which just made him laugh more. It all but echoed down the mostly empty train as I was reminded of hundreds of good times I had pushed to the back of my mind. When our laughter finally subsided, he nudged me with his shoulder. “I’ve missed the shit out of you, love.” I could smell the wine on his breath as he said that. He was a lot more drunk than what he was letting on.

I sighed deeply, feeling like I might regret my next words but being unable to stop myself saying them anyway, “I missed you too, Matty.”

  We caught up for a bit, mostly about the band and his life, as mine was nowhere near as interesting in comparison. The more we chatted, the more it suddenly felt like a slot of my life had clicked back into place. As the stops passed by outside the window, I realised I was now fairly close to where I needed to get off.

“Where are you even going?” I asked as I turned back to Matty. Last time I had been to his place, he lived nowhere near here - but that was years ago now.

“I, erm…” He stared out the window for a moment, squinting thoughtfully. “I don’t know.” He shrugged.

“How can you not know?” I asked with a loud laugh.

“Where are you going?” He shot back.

I frowned at him for dodging the question, but answered anyway, “Home.”

“Then that’s where I’m going.” He grinned.

My eyebrows shot up in surprise as I shook my head, “No way.”

“Yes way.” He argued.

  “I’ve not seen you in years and you want to come to my place?” I asked in shock, my words coming out quicker than I expected. “Where are you living these days?” I tried to press him, hoping he would at least give me a rough idea of where to relocate him. He just made the motion of zipping his mouth shut. “Come on, Matty.” I huffed with a roll of my eyes.

“I just won’t tell you where I live and then you have to take me back to yours.” He said defiantly as he crossed his arms, looking awfully proud of himself.

“I’ll get it off your licence.”

“What makes you think that I have it on me?” He asked confidently. “You gonna frisk me for it?” He smirked.

I just stared at him in disbelief, “You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah, maybe. But you love me.” He retaliated with a wink.

I felt an uncomfortable flutter in my chest as he said that, but was still too drunk to process it properly. “Yeah, don’t remind me.” I mumbled.

“Why not?” He asked, looking curious.

“Just stop talking or I will put you in a taxi and leave you there.” I threatened as I tried my best to look serious, but I had a feeling by the expression on Matty’s face that I had failed.

“I will never stop talking!” He boomed loudly. I was incredibly grateful that there was nobody else here for me to feel embarrassed in front of. “At least until I am sober enough to regret this tomorrow morning.” He added before standing up, wobbling slightly on his feet before grabbing a rail to steady himself. “Come on. This is your stop, yeah?”

  After quite a large amount of effort, I was able to escort the (as it so turned out) very drunk Matty to my front door. “Matty, you need to support some of your own weight.” I groaned as he leaned himself onto my shoulder. I wasn’t used to his hair being so wild and curly like this, it kept getting everywhere any time his head was near mine. He pushed himself away from me, steadying himself before taking a few steps. I watched as he went to walk up to my front door and instantly realised a potential issue. “Watch the steps.” I said, but he didn’t seem to register it. “The steps Matty, the steps-” I scrambled to stop him from breaking his nose on the pavement as he absolutely did not see the steps, proceeding to trip over them and plummet face first into the pavement. Thankfully, I was able to catch him just before the impact. He just laughed. “Fuck sake. Is this what it was like when you were trying to get me home?” I huffed as I managed to get him up all four steps and tried to find my keys.

“No, I just carried you.” He slurred drunkenly into my shoulder.

“What..?” I frowned to myself. That didn’t ring any bells and I thought I would’ve remembered something like that.

“I just carried you.” He repeated.

“No, I heard you. Why?” I corrected.

“You fell asleep on the bus and I didn’t wanna wake you up, so I mostly just carried you back.” He explained as I pushed the door open. The thought of that was a lot more endearing than I expected it to be.

  Matty instantly hauled himself off my shoulder and stepped inside as soon as he could.

“I like what you’ve done with the place.” He commented as he walked into the kitchen.

“I’ve accumulated a lot of shit since you were here last.” I agreed. He poured himself a glass of water and continued snooping around. I watched as he poked through my bookshelf, moved his way onto my records, and eventually stopped in front of the TV cabinet as he crouched down to examine the DVDs at the bottom. It was surreal to see Matty in my flat again. I didn’t expect in a million years that this was likely to happen. “So, you want me to get you a blanket or..?” I prompted, feeling keen to go to bed since it was now well past one in the morning.

“Aw, we’re not gonna hang out?” He pouted.

“Not at this hour, no.” I chuckled.

“But I want to.” He whined, pushing himself back onto my lounge room rug and staring at the ceiling.

“And I want to sleep.” I argued.

  “We’ve not hung out in years.” He continued, opting to ignore me.

“We can another day.” I assured him as I draped a blanket over the side of the couch.

He just groaned loudly, sitting in silence for a few moments as I watched his mild tantrum in amusement. “Fine.” He eventually sighed.

“Everything is still in the same spot if you need anything.” I said as he pulled himself up off the floor.

“And you?” He asked.

“What?” I frowned back, confused as to what he was getting at.

“Will be..?” He raised an eyebrow in question.

“In my room..?” I offered. He nodded to himself as I said that, looking pensive as his gaze flicked from my bedroom door back to the couch. I waited for him to say something else, but it looked like the gears in his head were turning as he tried to figure something out. “All right, well… Good night.” I said with a nod.

“See you in the morning, love.” I heard him call out in a sing-song voice after me. I was grateful to still be drunk enough to not overthink that upcoming situation too much.

  * * *

  Memories came flooding back as soon as I woke up the next morning. Right, there was a man presumably still asleep on my couch. A man that I used to have many, many feelings for. This was not how I expected to spend my day off. I was grateful that I hadn’t been too drunk this time to have patchy recollection – this time, I remembered everything that I had said. Whether Matty remembered everything that he said… that was going to be another story. I hadn’t heard him throwing up throughout the night, so perhaps he had already bailed. It wouldn’t surprise me. Gradually, I got myself presentable and slowly made my way out into the lounge room. I heard Matty before I saw him, his loud snores emanating from the couch. Stepping quietly around it I took in the sight before me. Matty looked like a mess. His curly hair was all over the place, he had drooled onto the couch pillow he was lying on, he had one shoe still on while the other was near the coffee table, a leg half kicked over the back of the couch, it was truly something to behold. And thus, something I couldn’t resist snapping a quick picture of and sending it to Ross before he had the chance to sort his hungover self. As I stood at the edge of the kitchen, texting Ross about where his friend had ended up, a particularly loud snort caught my attention. I looked up, seeing Matty frowning in his sleep and then sleeping beauty’s eyes snapped open. He quickly squinted as he took in the light in the room, before spotting me watching him.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” He groaned as he rolled over and pressed his face into the back of the couch.

“Why are you on my couch?” I shot back as I slipped my phone into my pocket.

Matty paused for a moment at that, sitting up slightly as he looked down at the couch. “Why the fuck am I on your couch..?” He questioned quietly. Looking up for a moment, he took in his surroundings. “Your place looks different.” He noted.

“You came back here last night because you refused to give me your own address.” I informed him. He just groaned again.

“Sorry.” He mumbled.

“It’s fine.” I chuckled, grabbing a new glass of water and trading it out for the half-drunk old one sitting by the foot of the couch.

  “Why were you even on the tube last night?” I asked as I sat down in the recliner beside him.

He pinched the bridge of his nose as he sat up properly, “Uh… I was out with a mate, and that was where he had to go so I kind of just… got on? I guess?” He answered, sounding incredibly unsure of his explanation.

“You didn’t have a mate with you..?” I questioned, suddenly wondering if Matty had really been that drunk to have imagined getting on a train with someone.

“No, no, he was on the other line.” He elaborated. “I just felt like I should get on too, I suppose.” He laughed drily. “Glad I did, in hindsight. Who knows where I would’ve ended up had I not bumped into you.”

“Probably passed out in that carriage, still slumped into that seat.” I smirked at him.

“Would’ve woken up cuddling with some homeless guy.” He grinned back, then instantly winced. “You got any coffee?” He asked quietly. “And maybe some paracetamol?”

“Yeah, give me a minute.”

  Once he had a coffee in his hand and some painkillers in his stomach, Matty seemed a bit more ready to face the day. For how drunk he had appeared last night, I expected him to have been more hungover today, but he looked fairly well composed. I switched the TV on to offer some background noise as he drank his coffee, but as soon as there was any new stimulus in the room Matty found himself with a million thoughts to get out of his head about whatever was playing. It was good to know that some things never changed. The more we spoke, the easier it was to fall into familiar habits of hanging out in each other’s company. He had gotten up just before eleven, but now it was fast approaching five, and I hadn’t heard him mention anything about going home.

“How you feeling?” I asked as Matty came back from the bathroom.

“Huh?” It looked like he took a second to comprehend what I meant. “Oh, fine.” He shrugged.

“Not hungover?” I frowned.

“Nah, been okay since the coffee.” He said with a dismissive wave of his hand as he flopped back onto the couch next to me.

“Then… why are you still hanging around?” I asked in confusion. It didn’t seem to make sense if he was feeling well enough to go home that he was still sat in my lounge.

“Because I want to hang out with my friend.” He said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You said we could another today - today is another day.” He added as he wrapped an arm around me and pulled me into his side.

  That took me aback for a second, both for the sudden intimacy and because that meant that he remembered the small details of what was said last night. I had dismissed his apology for the most part, given how drunk he seemed then. But maybe there was more to it than drunken ramblings. “Yeah… I did…” I said apprehensively, unsure if I wanted to start the line of questioning that was on the tip of my tongue. “You remember everything you said on the train?”

“Yeah. Of course.” He nodded.

“You say that but you seemed pretty drunk. I wouldn’t have expected you to remember much.” I argued.

“I remember important things, even when wasted.” Matty countered with a pointed look.

“Important?” I questioned immediately.

“Getting to see you after so long and finally apologise, that was pretty important to me.” He elaborated as he ran a hand through his curls.

“It was?”

“Of course, it was!” He said instantly. The tone of his voice almost sounded offended that I’d even ask. “I also remember nearly giving myself a concussion. Thanks for stopping that.” He chuckled.

  “Yeah, uh, it’s no problem.” I mumbled. What he was saying was just raising more questions than providing answers. “So, you meant everything you said then? About missing me?” I continued.

“Sure did.”

“You miss me?” I felt like my thoughts were just spiralling deeper and deeper for each thing that he said. I hadn’t properly allowed myself to think about Matty in years, but now it was just all flooding back. I had missed him, a lot more than I let myself realise.

He let out a deep sigh as he moved away slightly, turning on the couch to face me. “I can see myself falling into old habits if we continue like this, so let me explain. I didn’t mean to come across like I did when you admitted your feelings. I was an idiot, you caught me off guard, I didn’t know what to say so I just defaulted to what was easy to say. I genuinely hadn’t ever thought about it, it hadn’t crossed my mind that you thought of me that way. You asked for space, so I wanted to give that to you. Then I just… got pulled away from it all. But in hindsight I should’ve made more of an effort to stay in touch and make sure we were on the same page. Because the more I was away from you, the more I realised I missed you a lot more than I expected myself to. Turned out I probably did return your feelings. That hit me pretty hard last night when I saw you. It took me a few minutes to work up the courage to come over and say sorry, because you had every right to tell me to fuck off.”

  Matty watched me intently, clearly awaiting my reaction, but this was just all too much to take in at once. This made things back then, now seem very different. This made things last night, now seem very different. “You… you were into me?” I finally spluttered in bewilderment.

“Stop questioning everything I say.” He laughed. “I don’t say shit I don’t mean.” I made a thoughtful noise as I tried to make sense of this. If he was into me then, did that mean he was still into me now? Is that why he was so hellbent on spending time together last night? Everything I had pushed under the metaphorical rug in my brain was now quickly ripped back out and cluttering up my mind floorspace. “Do you have an opinion on any of this?” He prompted.

I stared at him for what felt like a solid minute before one thought finally floated to the top of the pile of junk. “I really, really want to kiss you right now.”

He looked surprised for a second, his gaze flicking to the space on the couch between us before he looked back up at me with a devious look. “Then maybe you should.”

  Don’t overthink it. Don’t overthink it. Don’t overthink it. I pushed myself forward on the couch, grabbing a fistful of his jacket and pressing my lips to Matty’s in such urgency that I nearly missed. My brain stopped after that, unable to remember what I was meant to do in this situation other than make the initial move. I had had enough willpower to kiss him, but didn’t have enough to take the lead. Thankfully, Matty was willing to take the initiative for me. As soon as his hand found my waist, as soon as he kissed me back, the feeling of excitement at the reciprocation shot right through me. I brought my hand up to sit in curls at the base of his neck as the overly rushed kiss started to find its pace. This moment had played on my mind for years. How this would feel, how it would play out, if Matty would be a good kisser. It turned out that I couldn’t have predicted how unbelievable it would feel to kiss him, no matter how hard I tried. My stomach twisted as he deepened the kiss, suddenly feeling far too many years of pining getting expressed all at once. It was odd feeling his stubble brush against my chin, that hadn’t been something I had accounted for all the times I had imagined this. His hand brushed against the small of my back, leaving my skin feeling like it was practically tingling where he touched. I let out a jagged breath, trying to piece my shattered mind back together for a second.

  “Fuck me.” I breathed in exasperation, moving back slightly from him.

“Really?” Matty asked a little too eagerly as he planted a kiss on my neck.  

“No, Matty.” I laughed, trying to keep my voice steady despite his teasing. “I just… this is… ridiculous.” I muttered.

“In a good way?” He asked in a voice that sent a shiver down my spine.

“In a very good way.” I answered bluntly. “I just can’t believe I waited, what? Three years? To do this.” I explained.

“Well, I’ve got plenty of time to make up for what we lost.”

[sunsetinmyvein]

The Tension’s Overflowing P1

Rightio, this should’ve been finished yesterday but I have had a fun weekend, so here it is today instead! The first prompt that I have written from my fantastic prompt list requested by the lovely @tooshhhy​. Taking it a smidge in my own direction, for... reasons. Enjoy!

(The prompt, since it wasn’t sent as an ask)

“I just think, that, er…” I started, suddenly losing my train of thought when I stared across the bus at Matty and that dumb, expectant smile sitting on his face.

“Mm?” He prompted, waiting for me to keep going.

“It’s just… not… uh…” I’d been trying to get this sentence out for what felt like the last five minutes. Why the fuck couldn’t I get my head sorted?

“Come on, get it together.” He chuckled quietly.

“Quit smiling at me.” I eventually blurted out.

“Why?” Matty just kept that cocky smirk on his face.

“I can’t stop messing up my sentences when you look at me like that.” I admitted. There were downfalls to having a major crush on one of your best mates – being unable to get out a coherent thought when they looked at you like that, was one of them.

“You can’t stop messing up your sentences because you’re drunk.” He argued with a pointed look.

“I’m not that drunk.” I tried to defend myself, but I knew full well that was a lie. I turned my gaze back out the window, hoping that looking at the passing scenery would help me settle down my motion sickness, and that staring at Matty less would make my heart stop hammering in my chest. Either would be nice.

“I told you that you shouldn’t have another shot.” My mohawked friend laughed loudly. I tore my eyes away from the window, shooting a glare at him.

“I’m fine it’s just-” I paused for a moment to stop myself from retching, clearing my throat before continuing, “this bus is just really bumpy.” Staring out the window was at least helping the nausea somewhat, even if it wasn’t as much as I would’ve liked. Leaning my head on the window, although nice for a brief moment as the coolness settled in, didn’t feel overly great as soon as the bus started moving again and my brain felt like it was being rattled from the inside out. After another minute of trying to regulate my breathing and getting my churning stomach under control, I felt someone sit next to me.

“As much as I know you always want to impress me, you shouldn’t do it at the detriment of your health.” He grinned, now suddenly sitting much closer to me than what he had been. I was all too quickly overwhelmed with the smell of the tequila he’d been drinking all night and the joint he’d smoked before we got on the bus. I hated to admit that it was strangely comforting in it’s familiarity.

“I wasn’t trying to impress you.” I defended with a frown, feeling my words slur slightly on my tongue. “You’re just a bad influence.”

“If I was such a bad influence, you wouldn’t hang out with me so much.” Matty shot back as he suddenly pulled me against his side. The sudden movement caused a lurch in my stomach, but the feeling of being so close to him was too nice to pull myself away from.

  Matty’s warmth was easy enough to settle into, and the overwhelming feeling of cosiness had me reflecting on the evening’s events. The band played a show to celebrate the release of their last EP. We went to go get drinks after. Eventually a few others peeled off from the bar and made their way home. Matty, George and myself had been the only ones left in the end, kicking on until nearly two in the morning. I was fairly certain we had been drinking the entire time since before the show until we got on this bus. No wonder my head was spinning. My memory was fairly hazy, but suddenly one detail came back to me in a flash. “I have to tell you something really important and if I don’t tell you now, I won’t get the chance.” I said abruptly.

“What?” Matty asked in concern as he looked down at me.

“I lost your wallet.” I said quietly, feeling the guilt settle in the pit of my stomach as soon as I said it. I remembered using his card to pay for a drink at the bar, and then had no recollection of it after that.

“No, you didn’t.” He said softly as he shook his head.

“Yes, I did.”

“No.” He shuffled slightly, reaching into his back pocket to show me. “I’ve got it here.” He said as he held the wallet out as proof.

  “Are you sure?” I asked, staring at the object in question doubtfully. To be fair, my vision was slightly blurred as I tried to focus on it to verify if it was, in fact, Matty’s wallet.

“Yes.” He said with a small laugh.

“This is why I love you.” I mumbled against his shoulder, letting my eyes slip shut now that I knew I’d not lost something so important.

“Yeah?

“Mm.”

“Tell me that when you’re sober.” I didn’t have to be looking at him to know that teasing smile that was ever-present on his stupidly handsome face was back.

“Sure.” I nodded, suddenly find myself too tired to keep responding.

  * * *

  I tried my best to keep myself still as she slept away on my shoulder, but these bumpy fucking roads weren’t overly helpful in that regard. We weren’t too far now from where we had to get off, so it wouldn’t be much of a nap, but I felt it might help her sober up at least a bit. I watched as George walked up from the front of the bus to make sure at least one of us was alert.

“You good?” He asked as he leaned against one of the seats in front of us.

“Yeah.” I nodded. “You?”

“Fine.” His gaze flicked down to the girl snoring away on my shoulder. “I know I’ve asked before but…” He paused for a moment, looking like he was debating what he was about to asked next. “Are you sure you guys are just friends?” He asked, looking back up at me.

“Yeah, of course we are.” I said as I rolled my eyes. George just shrugged and walked off.

  * * *

  I woke up the next morning feeling like I was overheating and getting progressively more nauseous the more I laid there. For a few minutes I tried to roll over to get to a cooler position, only to realise I was on a couch and there wasn’t a cooler position. Eventually I had to kick off the blanket I had on and by then, I was awake and there was no going back. I stared at the ceiling for a few moments, feeling my head spin slightly as I took in the room around me. This was Matty and George’s flat. He must’ve dragged me back here last night. How had we even gotten here? I vaguely remembered getting on a bus after we left the bar, but after that it was a bit hazy. The more I woke up, the more I felt the dryness in my mouth and the headache setting in behind my eyes. Ugh. Today was going to suck.

“How you feeling?” I heard Matty’s familiar voice ask as he stepped into my line of sight.

“Shit.” I groaned.

“Sounds about right.” He laughed as he perched himself on the arm of the couch at my feet. “Want a glass of water?”

“Yes.” I nodded, instantly regretting moving my head. “And maybe a bowl.” I just heard him chuckle from the other room.

  He came back a few moments later with a large plastic Tupperware container and a glass of water, both of which he sat beside me on the end table.

“Where’s George?” I asked, realising I’d not heard any other sounds other that Matty padding around the kitchen.

“Out somewhere.” He shrugged. “He wasn’t here when I woke up.”

I leaned over, grabbing the glass of water and noticing that it was quite bright outside. “What’s the time?” I frowned.

“Nearly midday.”

“Fuck.”

“I’ve not been up long either.” I took a proper look at him in that moment. He seemed rested enough, and didn’t seem to be showing the same signs of a hangover that I was. I mean, he was upright for a start. He ran a hand through his hair as I continued to scrutinise his current state.

“How’re you looking so chipper?” I eventually questioned. At the time, I thought he’d been drinking just as much as I had been.

“Practice.” He smirked. I just rolled my eyes in response.

  Matty wandered off shortly after that, saying something about ‘writing something down’ and leaving me to my own devices to slowly sort out my hangover. Thankfully, I didn’t need the bowl in the end. My stomach felt volatile, but steady enough for me to be able to sit up properly on the couch. I turned his TV on after a few minutes, glad to have the distraction from my splitting headache. The longer I sat in front of the TV, the more I remembered of last night. I recalled rounds of shots at the bar, Ross drunkenly singing something in front of a crowd, losing Matty’s wallet? No, because he said on the bus that he still had his wallet. Oh, no. My headache was forgotten for a brief moment as I had a vague feeling of where that conversation had gone after that.

“You want some toast?” Matty asked as he stepped out of his bedroom. He took one look at me before he frowned, and then began smiling. “Are you blushing?” He asked in a teasing tone.

“Uh, no.” I lied, shrinking back into the couch slightly.

“What’s up?” He asked as he walked over.

  I stared at him on the couch next to me for a long moment, trying to estimate what his reaction would be - trying to remember what his reaction was. “What...” I cleared my throat, trying to gain some semblance of confidence around this conversation topic. “What did I say last night?”

“When?”

“On the bus.” I clarified.

“You went on some tangent about Game of Thrones, that you never finished.” Matty chuckled quietly to himself. “Told me off for smiling. Said you lost my wallet. Told me you loved me. Standard drunken stuff.” He answered.

I took in a deep breath, trying to steady my heartrate. “Yeah... I er, wasn’t lying when I said that.” I admitted.

He seemed to take a second to realise what I was referring to. “Yeah, of course, I love all you guys.” He shrugged casually.

Well, it was fucking now or never. “That isn’t what I meant.”

“You-” For once, his confident façade fell away and he looked genuinely taken aback by this news. “What?”

  My face felt like it was turning beet red as I judged his expression. “I thought you knew?” I asked quietly. I hadn’t been overly secretive about my attraction to him, not that anything had transpired as a result.

“Well, obviously it makes sense that you’re into me.” He laughed lightly, running a hand through his mohawk.

I suddenly found myself feeling defensive. “I’m being serious.”

“So am I, I’m a magnet for this sort of thing, you know.” He said with a smug look.

“You aren’t making this very easy, Matty.” I huffed, taking a sip from the glass of water next to me.

“What do you want me to say?” He asked. I stopped for a moment after that to think. What did I want him to say? I more so just wanted to get my own feelings out in the open, but now that he was fully aware of them, the ball was in his court. It was unexpectedly incredibly intimidating feeling like I had no power over this situation. I supposed I just wanted to know where his head was at.

  “What’s, uh… your opinion? On all this?” I settled on.

“It’s pretty flattering.” He said with a shrug.

“That’s it?” I asked, hoping to get more of a response than that.

“Well, we’re mates.” He answered.

“And that’s all?” I prodded. I wanted a deeper response, some kind of genuine feeling from the man in front of me. Not half-hearted quick-fire responses.

“I’ve not really ever thought about it.” He admitted.

“Would you?”

“I’d gladly let you occupy my thoughts.” He winked.

Something in my brain just snapped at that, and I quickly realised I didn’t want to be here anymore. “I feel like… maybe we should get some distance.” I said softly, standing up from the couch. My head spun slightly, but the hangover was easing.

  “What?” Matty asked in surprise, scrambling to his feet.

“I just-” I started, sighing as I tried to organise my racing thoughts. “Maybe we need some time apart.” I suggested again.

“Why?” He asked with a confused frown.

“Clearly you don’t want to take this seriously.” I answered, feeling a pang of hurt as the words came from my mouth. I tried to ignore it as I gathered my stuff.

“Well, hang on-” He seemed to be struggling to find the right words. “Are you feeling alright? Are you okay to get home?” He rattled off.

“I’ll take a taxi.” I said dismissively as I checked my pockets.

“I can drive you.” He offered, quickly grabbing his keys, but I’d already made it to his front door.

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

The End.

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Or

(Spoiler alert, it isn’t, here’s part two) 

[sunsetinmyvein]

Eyes Bright

Requested by the ever lovely @ghostlightqueen​ off the prompt list, and then turned totally self indulgent by me. Enjoy some Christmas Matty content. 

“Matty?” I shouted out down the hall.

“What?” I heard my boyfriend call back.

“Where’s my hat?” I asked as I rifled through my dresser. I thought I put it in the top right drawer last year, but it wasn’t there now. Where the hell had it gone..?

“What?” His voice called back.

“My Santa hat, where is it?” I clarified.

Matty’s steps gradually grew closer to our bedroom as he poked his head in through the door, examining what I was doing. “I dunno. Where did you put it last year?” He asked as he walked in, opening up the wardrobe.

“If I knew that, I wouldn’t be asking.” I pointed out.

“Do you really need it?” He questioned with a frown.

“Yes, I really need it.” I asked, aghast that he would even imply I could leave the house without it. “It’s a Christmas photo! Of course, I need my hat.” I scoffed with a roll of my eyes. The audacity.

“I admire your dedication to Christmas spirit.” He chuckled quietly as he continued to help me search.

 After roughly fifteen minutes of looking, we were able to locate my hat. It turned out that it had fallen down the side of the dresser last year. But it was found, my Christmas sweater was on, and thus I was prepared for this photo. Matty wasn’t as keen to get into the Christmas chaos as I was, which was fine - I knew it was more my thing than it was his. At least he threw on a green beanie over his mohawk for the occasion. And realistically, he agreed to get the photo with me, so I could hardly complain. We’d had to book quite a bit in advance to get a time slot with the good mall Santa for our shot. The difference being that good mall Santa’s had real beards. You have to be devoted to your craft to earn my hard-earned dollars. Thankfully, having a booking meant that we didn’t have to wait in line for ages like the people who showed up on a whim throughout the day. I’d been prattling on for the last while excitedly while we stood in line about various Christmas things while Matty indulged my ramblings.

  When we were next up in line, the excitement truly set in. “I know it’s so irrational, I know Santa’s not real, but holy fuck every time I see a mall Santa a small part of me is still so damn delighted.” I said, feeling a bit starry eyed.

“That’s pretty adorable.” Matty smiled as he nudged me with his elbow playfully.

“Just the whole deal with Christmas, the lights, the food, Santa, seeing your friends and family, it’s all so great.” The more I spoke, the more I felt my energy building. I realised as I said it, that I didn’t recall turning on our Christmas lights before we left the house this evening. “DUDE, did you-” I started, swinging my arm out to grab Matty’s shoulder while I kept my eyes trained on Mr Claus. But I felt it connect with something else instead. I paused for a moment, turning to my boyfriend to see him holding his cheek. “Shit, did I just hit you?” I gasped.

“Uh, yeah.” He laughed softly as he rubbed his cheek.

“Oh man, I’m so sorry.” I winced, pulling his hand away to examine the damage. There was a pretty decent scratch on his cheek from one of my nails.

“It’s fine-”

  “No, it’s not! I properly got you!” I interrupted.

“Seriously, it’s fine.” He dismissed as he pulled his heavy coat tighter around his shoulders. “It could’ve been way worse. You could’ve given me a black eye or something.” He continued.

“Don’t even joke about that.” I said seriously. A part of me was instantly worried about ruining the photo we’d had booked for the last two weeks, but more so I just felt terrible for hurting him. “I’d feel even worse than I do now.” I added.

“Don’t feel bad. You’re worth every scratch.” He said with a sweet smile.

I stared at him for a solid minute, just taking in his choice of phrasing. “That was so corny.” I eventually said, shaking my head in disbelief.

“But sweet?” He asked with a hopeful look.

“Yes.” I laughed with a nod as he wrapped an arm around my shoulder and pulled me into his side.

“Good.” He muttered as he kissed the top of my head. “Don’t want you to be sad before this photo you’ve been hanging for.”

  By the time we had finished fussing over Matty’s injury, we were called up to the front by the photographer. My attention was instantly diverted to the jolly fellow in front of us as my excitement returned. I made sure to reign in my gesticulations though. We took our assigned seats, Matty of course letting me sit the closest to Santa.

“So, what do you kids want for Christmas?” The mall Santa asked, clearly keen to play into the scenario.

“A new guitar would be nice.” My boyfriend quickly suggested. Little did he know, one was already wrapped and stuffed in the back of the garage away from snooping eyes.

“Have you-” He looked past me to Matty, cutting himself off as he frowned, “Oh, uh, it looks like you’ve got a bit of a scratch there, young man.” He noted, pushing his glasses up his nose.

“Yeah, the things you do for love, huh?” He grinned.

“Okay, now you’re being too corny.” I said, but still felt warmed by the sentiment none the less.  

“All right, look at the camera!” The photographer called out, waving her hand to catch our attention. To be honest, after all the fuss, the five minutes it took to get the actual photo was mildly underwhelming. But I got my free candy cane, and walked away with the printed photo in hand that I had full intention of sticking in a frame on the wall. It was a pretty cute photo, after all.

“Thanks, Matty.” I said as I finally tore my eyes away from the picture to look up at him.

“Merry Christmas.” He said, before leaning down to kiss me.

[sunsetinmyvein]

This is the Story of How They Met

Neeeeext request! From the lovely @canyousevmyheavydirtysoul​ off the prompt liiiiist. 

I had thought, at the time of changing jobs, that becoming a server at weddings would be fun. A nice change of pace from the standard restaurant, slightly higher pay for it being a little bit fancier, people there for a good time instead of people working desk jobs on their rushed lunch break - it seemed like a sweet gig. But, as it so turned out, it was just busy. There would be huge breaks of no work at a time, but on the days where you had a job? Oh, boy. It was insane. So much prep work, constant running around, long shifts. No wonder there was a higher pay, this shit was difficult. And where I had thought that the clientele would be nicer given that they were all at a seemingly happy event, no. That was not the case at all. There were the disgruntled distant relatives (in contrast to the often overly jovial immediate family members), the jealous friends, the lonely singles, and the stragglers that were never really sure why they’d been invited in the first place. It was, in fact, an often shitty crowd to deal with.

 But I didn’t have a huge amount of time to dwell on that as I was handed the first tray of appetizers to give out. It was go time, time to break out the customer service smile. The reception was already pretty well underway, most people already taking advantage of the generous free bar that was set up. I was doing my first round of the room when a guy stopped me, clearly wanting to have a chat.

“Having a good evening?” He asked with a smile as he grabbed one of the meatballs off of the tray.

“It looks like a nice wedding.” I replied, deflecting the question instead of giving an honest answer.

“It’s okay, I guess, uh…” He shrugged before pausing and glancing at my shirt in an effort to spot a name. “No name tag?” He asked with a confused frown.

“This isn’t a diner, it’s a wedding.” I said with a short laugh. “People are meant to be paying attention to the happy couple, they don’t need to know who’s serving them.”

“But I’d like to.” He shot back smoothly, adjusting his tie slightly.

I eyed the name on the printed card in front of his plate: Pete Wentz. The two empty beer glasses in front of him also caught my attention. “Well, Pete-” He seemed surprised at my knowledge of his name. “maybe another time when I’m not in the middle of a shift.” I said, brushing past his chair and continuing to hand out these ridiculously overpriced meatballs.

“Is that a promise?” He called after me.

  After that, every time I went near his table, he made a point to try and speak with me. I shouldn’t have humoured him, should’ve just left it. But he seemed charismatic and interesting and honestly something entertaining at this dull wedding was sorely needed. The couple were acting like this was an arranged marriage for how lively they were being at their own wedding reception. This man, Pete, appeared to have been relegated to the table of people they felt guilty enough to invite but didn’t really want to be here, shoved in the back corner of the room.

“You should sit for a while.” Pete said as I came by with the first course. He was beginning to get a slight slur in his voice, which was unsurprising given the number of free drinks I’d seen him grab throughout the evening.

“Even if I wasn’t at work right now,” I sighed as I set his plate down, “there is nowhere to sit. There’s literally a seating plan.” I was surprised that nobody at his table had said anything about his antics.

“I’m sure I could make some space on my chair.” He said slyly as he pushed it out and patted his lap. I couldn’t help but snort with laughter.

“Nice try.”

“Worth a shot.” He winked.

  “On the note of shots, want to have a shot with me?” He offered, face lighting up at the idea.

“I’m working.” I said with a roll of my eyes.

“Nobody has to know.” He whispered overly loudly.

“I’d know.” I chuckled.

“Come ooooonnnn.”

“I can get you a shot.” I compromised.

He let out a reluctant groan. “I guess I’ll have to settle for that.”

“Tequila?” I suggested.

“It’s like you already know me so well.” He said wistfully as I wandered off.

  Pete didn’t seem to be that bad of a guy. A ridiculously brazen guy who was getting himself really drunk at this wedding, but not a bad one. It looked like he was a fairly well-groomed sorta person, his suit was neatly pressed, his black hair cut and styled nicely. Through passing conversation, it was revealed that he had gone to high school with the groom and that they were best friends back in the day, but hadn’t spoken in over five years. As a result, he really had no idea why he was here tonight. Or why he had even RSVP’d. He was entertaining, but was also doing a good job at preventing me from working.

“If you’re not gonna sit, or drink, then dance with me?” Pete pouted at me as I cleared his dessert plate. He was truly drunk now. I’d seen him get up a few times and stumble over his own feet on the way to the bathroom.

“No.” I shook my head.

“Why?” He whined. His table was mostly empty now, people having either gotten up to dance or gone home.

“Still at work.” I reminded him.

“When are you not at work?” He asked, leaning his head on his hand and staring up at me.

“When the wedding is finished?” I replied in confusion.

  “Well, what are you doing then?” He questioned.

“What?” I asked, watching as his head slipped off his hand and nearly hit the table. I reached my hand out to help him, but he quickly recomposed himself.

“When the wedding is finished? Are you busy?” He continued, acting like that didn’t just happen.

“Fuck me…” I mumbled under my breath. It was gonna be harder to get away from him now that dessert was finished - I didn’t have as much work to use as an excuse at this point in the evening. It was mostly just washing up.

“Really?” He grinned smugly.

“No, absolutely not.” I said quickly, eyes wide in surprise.

“You sure?” He teased. “I’d be down for that.”

“I’m certain you would.” I nodded.

  I went to walk off, but he caught my arm before I could.

“Seriously, though,” Pete started, “would you wanna meet up sometime?” He suggested, all air of cockiness gone. I met his gaze, trying to judge whether he was in his right mind to be making such offers. For how much I had seen him drink, he should be pretty fucking wasted, but he seemed pretty lucid in this moment.

“I suppose it would have to be more interesting than what this wedding has been.” I resigned quietly.

He instantly broke out into a bright grin. “Are you free Thursday?” He asked as he scrawled his number down onto his napkin.

“Yeah, I am.”

“Great! I’ll come grab you at six?” He suddenly seemed like a kid in a candy store, so ridiculously eager.

“Sure.” I smiled.

“Okay.” He said decisively, before standing up. “I promise I’ll be more sober then, but for now I’m gonna go throw up.” He was entirely straight faced as he said it, and then began stumbling to the bathroom. I watched in bewildered amusement, before deciding it would probably be a nice thing to do to make sure that he had a glass of water to come back to at his table to try and sober him up some.