Fell In Love In Stages // a matty healy fanfic

ACT 1 // YOU

2006

I'm perched on the hood of Charlie's car, lost in thought, with my eyes fixated on nothing in particular. Charlie sits next to me, his burly arm draped around my waist, while the other one flails around as he recounts his family's summer vacation in the Far East to our group of friends. At least, I think that's what he's talking about. To be honest, I've lost track. This is the third time today he's told this story

Vicky cackles at a joke he makes and I see her place a hand on his chest as she does. I couldn't care less. I was too busy thinking about the party later tonight, when suddenly, I catch a whiff of something familiar and instinctively dart my head in the direction it was coming from.
The guy standing on my left- Elijah, I think his name was- flinched at my sudden movement.
Charlie notices this and stops his sentence midway to ask me what happened. "Nothing", I say and he resumes his story before I even get the second syllable out.
I take another sniff and three cars down the lot from us, I see it.

The zoot pressed between a cupid's bow that dropped elegantly away from a soft and full middle. It was a mouth that made me think of forbidden things, like the forest behind my house, which I wasn't allowed to explore, or the cigarettes I'd been expressly instructed not to smoke. That morning, the intricacies of Charlie's stories didn't interest me as much as the boy's mouth; and the face to which it belonged, I thought, was just as attractive.
He was laughing at something hysterical- his shoulders bent forward, his eyes crinkling at their corners, smoke escaping his now wide open mouth. He chortled at something his friend in the driver's seat had said and I couldn't help but notice his sharp canines. I was quite sure I'd never seen him before. Then again, I haven't been here long enough to be fully acquainted with the upperclassmen. He looked my age, maybe a year younger. He must've sensed me looking at him because before I could look away, he turns towards me and our eyes meet for a second. He might've winked at me but I couldn't be sure of it since I turned away before he could've. I never hold eye contact for too long. Especially not if the boy was hot. A non-hot boy stares at you relentlessly and it is, at best, awkward and, at worst, a form of assault. But a hot boy on the other hand... well.
Screeching tyres snap me out of my reverie. I cut a glance to him, and his eyes were still on me. It occurred to me just then why they call it eye contact.
As I watched the car the boy was in exit the parking space and drive out of the car park, I felt this weird mix of tension and excitement welling up inside of me. I don't even know what the feeling was, really, just that there was a lot of it.