matty healy imagines

infatuation // matty

this imagine is off tumblr by the way,,and i hope it makes up for the lack of imagines

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From the day you laid eyes on Matty, you were absolutely infatuated with him. It was the most unromantic way to meet ever, drunk and giggly and flirty in a club, exchanging numbers and sloppy kisses throughout the night. You were obsessed with the way his red-rimmed eyes twinkled in mischief, and the way his cheeks were so flushed, and the way his chapped lips looked so kissable, it had to be a sin.

Matty didn't remember much of that night, he had drank far too much alcohol than he would've cared to admit, which wasn't unusual. And even if he did remember, he wouldn't be able to say that was the day he fell in love with you. In fact, if he was being completely honest, it was mostly your breasts that caught his attention from the start. No, the first time Matty felt himself fall for you was your first official date. Everything about you was positively endearing, from the way you said his name, to the way that if you could describe yourself with any two words, they'd be punk rock-even though you were admittedly not very punk rock at all. You reminded him of someone straight out of a magazine. Like somehow you just already were the person that you were meant to be. Matty loved the way you always texted him back as soon as you got home, and how you were already going on a second date before the week was up.

You'd been together for almost three years now, and had always considered yourself nothing less than soul mates. Your twenties had essentially revolved around him, spending every free moment you had talking, breathing, thinking Matty.

Lately, you had felt the effects of the honeymoon phase fading. Whether it was the stress of college weighing down or the fact that you were just growing up, it felt as though Matty's once endearing behaviors were becoming more of a nuisance on your life.

You felt guilty for the how irritated Matty's presence was making you, particularly this evening.

You knew the minute you woke up that it wasn't morning yet. Your eyelids felt heavy. As you peeled them open, the darkness only further proved your point. Everything inside the house was silent. But from outside, you heard a car alarm going off. You could feel your heart starting to beat along to the rhythm of the alarm, and your tongue felt numb with the inevitability of who had set it off. You flip the comforter off from you and let your feet touch the soft carpet before padding out of the bedroom and down the stairs.

The alarm still hadn't gone off by the time you reached the kitchen, so you grudgingly grabbed your set of keys from the bowl on the counter, and slipped on a pair of sneakers before going outside to check on the commotion.

Sure enough, Matty wondered around outside of the car, tugging on the handle and banging on the windows drunkenly, as if that would stop the alarm.

You watched for a moment, assessing just how shit faced he truly was, before snapping the alarm off.

He let out what looked like a sigh of relief, thinking he did something to shut it off, before turning towards the door and making eye contact with you.

"Babe-" he says surprised.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" you mutter, almost to yourself, before turning on your heels and strutting back inside. You hear him stumbling after you, knocking into the door before successfully entering the house.

"I thought the house was locked," he slurs, "so I was gon' sleep in the car for the night- but then that was locked too."

In the light you can see the red outline rimmed around Matty's eyes. It reminds you of the first day you met him. His pupils are bulging like a wild animal's. Instead of entrancing you and pulling you in for more, they just look pathetic. Like the eyes of a sad, lost boy. He's trying his best to focus on you standing still. But you begin toeing off your sneakers and decide you're just too tired to care.