That 000000 & ffffff || Matty Healy

On The Verge Of Passing Out

/ / O N T H E V E R G E O F P A S S I N G O U T / /

"Do you think your Grammy would have whipped out some holy water if I told her I smoked bible pages once?" Matty says it so nonchalantly and I almost miss my turn because I'm not sure if I hear him right.

"What?"

I'm glancing in the rearview mirror of my new car – it's nothing fancy, just a sleek black car, but I'm thankful, and I'm sure Jamie is too, now that I don't have to borrow his car all the time. I don't really pay much attention to Matty, but from my peripheral, I can see that he shrugs, rolling down the window before lighting up a cigarette, "We were out of Rizla." I turn to stare at him; glad I'm at a stoplight now. He turns to me, raising an eyebrow. He pushes his shades up to properly look at me with amusement lacing his eyes, "What, it's not like Big G wrote the bible."

"Big G," I repeat. "Oh my god."

"Exactly," Matty grins.

"She'd have spanked you. Grabbed you over her knees and spank you until you've memorized the whole of Psalm: 23," I answer with a slight frown, suppressing something in my mind.

"The lord is my shepherd?" Matty asks and when I quirk an eyebrow he grins, "I been to an all boys catholic school, Mars, I know some stuff." The light turns and I continue on the route. Matty furrows his eyebrows, "That was an oddly specific scenario, Marceline. About your Grammy, I mean."

"I suppose," I say biting my bottom lip and breathing in relief when I find a parking space immediately.

"Marcy," Matty asks softly. I ignore him, getting out of the car and walking to his side to hold the door open for him. He grabs my wrists and spins me until I'm trapped between the passenger side door and himself. He grabs my cheeks, forcing me to look at him.

"Matty, come on, we're gonna be late."

"He can wait." I cast my eyes downward, avoiding his and I'm waiting for him to realize just how close his cigarette is burning to my ears because my skin is already heating up. He sighs, finally, dropping his hand that's holding the cig and bending, wrapping his other arm around my neck, pulling me for a kiss on my head. "Alright, love, Let's go." He goes to lead me towards the restaurant, but I stop him. He turns, confused but I immediately burry my face in his chest as if the notions would cease the tears, but all it did was ruin another one of his shirts. Matty wraps his arms around me, completely engulfing me, and I know we must look ridiculous, hugging in the middle of the street but for some reason, that only makes me clutch him tighter.

"Hey," He whispers into my hair. He kisses atop of my head before resting his chin there.

It's moments until I pull away and he asks if I'm alright. I nod my head, rubbing under my eyes, "I'm sorry," I tell him.

He shakes his head, "I shouldn't have pushed it, I'm sorry, darling."

I snort a bit, "Shut up, Matty." I bring my hand to my stomach, trying to ease the nerves and Matty's eyes follow. "I was a little child," I confess. He glances up, dropping the cigarette to the ground and stepping it out. He grabs on to my shoulder and tugs me back a few steps to the car. He leans back, pulling me in front of him, encasing me and keeping me secure by clasping his hands together at the small of my back. I look up at him, "I just questioned a lot of things when I was younger, and Grammy didn't like it. I never told my parents, it was just something that happened, Matty it's no big deal – I don't even know why I..." I clear my throat, "I'm sorry, I've turned it into something bigger than it is."

"Marceline," He breathes deeply. "Don't you ever, ever, ever, downplay your feelings – especially to me." He looks down at me, a slight frown to his lips. He brings his hands to my face, pushing my hair back and holding it in place, "What happened is not alright, Marcy and you shouldn't have to...Fuck, Mar, I love you, okay, I want to help you, I want you to talk to me, tell me what your thinking, I want you to feel safe around me – don't suppress things from me, please."