About You. (Matty Healy)

21- You're Cold and I Burn.

Lipstick on the Glass by Wolf Alice

"There's no pleasure in resisting, so go ahead and kiss me."

Obsessions by Marina

"You never told me what it was that made you strong and what it was that made you weak."

August 2015

It had been a month since Jade returned to London from Los Angelos. Her journey back was a blurred rush, too convoluted to look back on. She remembered waking up the morning after the party, next to Alyssa. A combination of daylight, alcohol-induced migraines, and unfamiliarity of the city made wherever she spent the night a mystery. In a state of panic, she somehow managed to get ahold of Adam, who somehow managed to get her luggage from Matty's hotel room. She took the first flight back to London, with no hesitancy. There was regret circling in her mind, compromising her nerves, but she was also hurt. She felt stranded, and she convinced herself that she was betrayed. It was a way to cope with her guilt and allow her to move forward with her life. 

Since then, there had been no word from Matty, nor had Jade given any effort to reach out to him. She thought about it, but she felt as though she had nothing to say to him. In reality, she had too much to say to him. There was so much love, pain, self-loathing, forgiveness, and remorse in her that she was paralyzed by all the conflict.

It was an early afternoon and Jade had recently gotten back to her flat after a morning writer's workshop. Writing had started to devour her of late. It was what most of her time and focus had gone to, except for the occasional social outing with Nell. Sometimes Alyssa would fly over to London in her private jet and visit on the weekends, but it seemed more motivated by the fact that she could, rather than actually wanting to. Regardless of what she was doing or taking part in, everything acted as a distraction for her. In a continuation of such habits, Jade sat at her counter and skimmed through all of the notes and feedback she had received at the workshop. She grew frustrated at the grey scribbles on the thin paper sheets, trying to make out their intentions. The double edge of passion was consumption.

In an abrupt interruption that made her unwillingly tear herself away from her fixation, there was a knock at the door. She dragged her feet to the door, opening it with annoyance overtaking all her movements and mannerisms. There was a strong frown on her face, that seemed as if it could be permanent. Her sharp stone eyes handed on an all too familiar pair of brown eyes that held a similar purpose. 

"What the hell are you doing here?" She asked. If words were capable of creating architecture, the tone of her voice alone shaped walls that were covered in ever-winding vines of poison ivy. 

Matty looked at her with a vexed shock. He was taken aback by her ambush, but it wouldn't lead him to a cease-fire. "I came to get my things." His words were rather condescending like they were an elementary fact.

"You could've called," she retorted, audibly disturbed.

"You wouldn't have answered if I did. Besides, I had a feeling you'd be home. You aren't exactly known for your budding social life."

Jade stared at him as if they were in the midst of a face-off. It did seem that wherever they stood, it might've well had been the Wild West. There were no rules, shape, or form to their fire-fueled state of limbo. 

"Was that an attempt at insulting me?" 

"If that's how you want to take it, then take it, darling," Matty shot her a small but toxic smile, "Are you gonna let me get my things, or not?"