matty healy imagines

honeycomb // matty ((part five))

- via xothemonsteryoumade on a03!!

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Matty had, with help from George, met his goal of being able to speak his whole range of vocabulary by the end of that year. But with overcoming this large obstacle, came another, and this new obstacle was a stutter.
It wasn't too terrible of a stutter in Matty's mind at first; it was just insignificant little hiccups in his speech, little interruptions that wouldn't even slow the flow of his words much at all. But it seemed like the world was keeping all eyes on him now, his words seeming to be more closely monitored than the others around him. It was like the world didn't want his words to become trapped again, as if he spoke in stanzas and every conversation he had was poetry, and the universe liked hearing his scratchy voice paint blank canvases with his beautiful language.

People hung on to his every word when he read aloud in English class, waiting for something; something bad, like one of those hiccuping stutters or those mispronounced words or phrases, or maybe they were waiting for him to shut up entirely, to go back to a silence that once seemed eternal. But he, so far, had been lucky that he hadn't stuttered or mispronounced anything when reading aloud, and no one knew that the boy who's voice seemed smooth as velvet was rough and frayed around the edges, and that his words weren't really stanzas; they were simply normal words that were exaggerated and stretched to fit everyone's shitty romanticization of Matty and his disorder that still plagued him often.

But then came that fateful day in February, where he had to present his project to his fellow classmates. It was a simple and plain presentation, with blank robotic colors and a rare few words marked with little bullet points. The details behind the basic points were on little neat notecards, all of them a bright blinding pink color. The topic assigned to him and the other students was to compare and contrast the book they had just read in class (Of Mice and Men) to another story, film, play, etc etc. It was the most basic assignment in the world, an easy A for Matty, but little did he know that this stupidly simple assignment would lead to a complex downfall of sorts for him, all because for some reason on that particular day, luck wasn't on his side.

Matty had a cold first off, so it was already hard to speak without his voice coming out as nasally and congested. Second, he had gotten no sleep the night before; and it wasn't because of George, it was mainly because he was worried about his younger brother Louis. He didn't know what exactly it was about Louis that bothered him so much, but something about his brother just struck him as odd lately; he seemed a little distant and disconnected, and weren't younger kids supposed to be way too present and way too obnoxious, connecting insignificant and irrelevant things to one another like broken spiderwebs and being too imaginative for their own good?? 
Matty wasn't too sure, but Louis's behavior reminded him way too much of himself at that age, and he didn't like it one bit. He didn't want Louis to go what he had gone through, hell he wouldn't really wish what he had gone through on anyone.

He had pretended to fall asleep the night before, just so George wouldn't worry about him. But the whole night, he proceeded to watch the backs of his eyelids, pitch black darkness, an empty abyss of nothingness. The nothingness seemed to engulf his body too, every part of him feeling numb, as if he was standing outside in the freezing winter, a blizzard hitting him at full blast. But just as he was about to finally succumb to the cold, he had felt George peck his forehead with a kiss, and the sensation burned through Matty's veins and made him come alive again, mind reeling over what this just might mean. Would Matty complicate things and bring it up later, or  would he pretend he never knew it happened at all? He didn't know, and these thoughts managed to unintentionally make him pull a full nighter.