SETTLE DOWN, matty healy

Chapter 32: 102

Song Selection: Last Train to London by Electric Light Orchestra

The three of us lingered onto the London streets for another night, mindfully ignoring the curfew set for us this time around. It was our last night together in London, Ophelia, Charles, and me, and it was only a matter of time before we were all destined back into our lives before the summer.

Well, back to what I hoped to be running away from while I was over here that I would soon have to confront when I was back.

Charles nudged me, having me gain my senses back to our walk through the town. "Y'know, you're more dazed than usual there Emma."

"She's on the precipice of some new awakening. Probably about the trees no doubt. We get it Emma, nature and humans are one in the same," Ophelia mocked me as I pushed her aside to send her laughing hysterically as a result.

Noticing Charles still eyeing me slightly concerned, I only ignored his gaze for a moment and pretended to think of anything else but my slight relapse of the heart in room 102. "I'm just going to miss the two of you back home. Here we are thinking we'll keep in touch when we know damn well I'm only entertaining in person rather than in writing."

Ophelia stopped suddenly, clasping my shoulders to shake me gently. "That, my fellow poet, is impossible considering you spent an entire summer becoming a better writer. Now shut up will you."

The three of us continued like this until dawn, barely managing to sneak up to our rooms after sunrise realizing we'd be leaving for our flight in another 2 hours. I packed up my things, catching a glimpse out the window at the small bubble I had fastened myself into these few months. A bubble that had seemed to be leaking with the arrival of a certain man.

Then again, he seemed to be the cause of my bubble from the start.

I looked down to my suitcase again, holding up a sweater peeking out from under the top layer of packed clothes. Taking it out slowly, I sighed under my breath for a moment. I hoped to regret my decision, never really meaning to be so bold. Yet here I was, continuously digging my own grave of shame from my own lack of self-control when it came to Matthew Healy.

***

Matty tucked a strand of my hair for a moment behind my ear, smiling over to me from across the bed in the cover of night. "Tell me again why the two of us managed to get ourselves here again."

"Because the two of us can't simply have a sense of self-control. You're pretty, but I could never take you for being slightly dumb there, Matty," I reminded him, having him roll his eyes as I only tucked myself away into his shoulders for a moment to keep the silence. His heart beat slowly against me, calming my nerves for a second to have me believe everything was alright again; like we were always this way and nothing happened to change it. "Did you really stop writing? You couldn't have you know, I don't believe it."

Instead of responding, he lifted away from me for a moment to reveal a small journal similar to the one he had given me before I left. Lifting my head up to catch a glimpse of some of the pages as he opened the small book, I tucked myself into the sheets to listen.

"That's why we're here, we're at the common again
I've been pouring my heart out towards your optimistic grin
I said, 'Well I, I like the cut of your jib
I like the way that your face looks when you're yapping on about him'
But on this shirt I found your smell
I just sat there for ages contemplating what to do with myself.
Said, 'Well I, I like the look of your shoes
I like the way that your face looks when I'm arguing with you'
And so when, when we all grow old
I hope this will remind you I'm not half as bad as what you've been told
And when I knock at a hundred and two
And I see your pajamas
I can't stop smiling at you."

***

"Emma-" I hid the page with the poem back into my journal for safe-keeping, seeing Charles rush to me as I only laughed under my breath to him. He handed me a small envelope, his address on the front side as I looked to see him grinning innocently. "I could use a pen-pal and personally, you're actually better in writing."

I punched his arm gently over this to have him laugh, eyeing me for a moment as I looked up taken aback. Not knowing much of what to do I only leaned up to hug him tightly and nodded. "I'll send you a letter once I get back home, alright."

He nodded in return, flicking my nose playfully to have me smile. "It'll be the one thing I can look forward to after this." Smiling back to me and grabbing his luggage to roll away, I watched him go slowly to realize what I had missed while being preoccupied on another man.

But- did I really miss anything to begin with? Charles was always a friend to me, nothing more. Contrary to the belief of others I suppose.

Ophelia and I parted ways at our airports, both taking different flights back home as I was on the way to California and her to Maine to leave me on another airplane back to a mess of a town wishing for there to be a train back to London I could fall back onto. Stepping off the plane to LAX and rolling my luggage across the sea of other passengers making their way to family and friend and simply back on their merry way, I stopped myself to see my parents and Anna was waving me to persistently.

I laughed at the sight, rushing over to them to be greeted with open arms. "There's our official 21st century Shakespeare then," Anna joked as I rolled my eyes at yet another nickname I was going to find myself hearing for another year.

"With all the attention she's getting, I don't doubt it. The pen is mightier than the sword, right?" I raised my brow to my mother attempting to give some words of wisdom. "Shakespeare said that didn't he."

"I thought he said the world was his stage, so let it be?" My dad corrected as I rolled my eyes in amusement over this.

"I think you're both equally confused." Anna continued to pester me over any adventures I had in London, needing every little detail it seemed from the two of us being away for so long.

Once back to my house, however, she eyed me intently for a moment with concern. "Don't tell me, you met someone."

"No, I was too busy trying to ignore all the bs that had happened here," I told her, annoyed over the question.

She then shook her head for a moment, sighing under her breath. "You saw him over there didn't you?"

Yes and I'm a fool. A terrible, horrible fool for falling for the same cliché all over again.

"No, I didn't see him in London either." I looked down for a moment. "You think senior year will be worse than junior year?"

"Nah, I think we'll be fine. What's the worse that can happen?"

A/N lmao a lot worse can happen. also the poem Matty had written about Emma isn't my work this time (damn I wish), it's just lyrics from 102 that quite literally make for a goddamn poem and honestly??? This is why I love Matty sm. OKAY LOVE YOU GUYS I'LL TRY TO UPDATE ASAP 🌟

~J.S. 💋