matty healy, falling in love over night

sleeping girl

31st of may
- first official tour date

Mattys pov

i woke up first and looked at her. she looked so small curled up on the bed. her dark black was escaping from the messy bobble leaving strands all over her face, but still perfectly placed. her tank top rolled up at the belly exposing her pale skin and the place where our baby would reside for the next nine months.

she looked so beautiful like this, her mouth was turned upwards into a smile, it was so lovely to see her smile. her eyelashes lay dormant on her cheek and her fists uncurled next to her.

smiling i grabbed a pen and began to write words about the sleeping girl in my bed.

i envisioned our life in the time she slept, how one day we would have a house, preferably in manchester, with a beautiful balcony for her to read on and a massive garden for our unborn child to play in. i smiled with the images in my head.

our child. i never imagined having a child at 21, infact i thought i'd still be drugged up and sleeping with any girl who looked my way. i didn't imagine this, i couldn't. i had it all and it was so well balanced, the scale could tip and i could lose it all in a snap. but i refused to even entertain that notion.

i thought about the night i met her, how different my life would have been if i haven't of seen the girl with sad eyes and a vodka bottle. i thought about everything she had been through, how we had to fight to met again.

she tossed and turned before cuddling back into the pillow where i lay before. inhaling she sighed, a smile appearing on her face. i'd like to think she was dreaming of me. but of course i would.

everything about her was so beautiful, i felt so inadequate compared. the way she danced when she thought nobody was watching. how she loved balconies for no other reason that just loving them. all the words i kept trapped flew into the page

grace had made me better, i still had a long way to go and the urges were still very apparent. but staring at her, she made me better. she was my medicine. and i wanted to tell her, i knew she would appreciate the honey like words i just didn't know how. to communicate them other than this.

i slipped of bed, careful as not to wake her and out the door. once on the cold corridor i looked around for george's room,
"oi" i knocked on his door, he answered minutes later in grey sweatpants
"what the fuck do you want?" he asked rubbing his messy, unruly hair
"i need your help" i said thrusting the piece of paper at him.