Be My Mistake - Matty Healy FanFic

Chapter Eleven

I felt Matty shifting underneath me enough to wake me from my sleep.

 My head was resting against his bare chest, my arms wrapped around his torso. 

I lifted my head to study his face. His eyelids were twitching lightly, his head shifting to the sides. I grabbed his hand. Small pearls of sweat had formed on the delicate skin of his palm, and I tried my best to stop his hand from shaking. He seemed so unbelievably fragile and there was no doubt in my mind, that he was having a nightmare. 

The sight of his body reacting to the trauma in his brain made my heart break.

" Matty," I mumbled, shaking him lightly not wanting to frighten him. 

He shifted and I could feel his hand squeezing mine, as if he was trying to pull himself out of the dark realm in which his conscience lingered. I sat up properly beside him and lifted my free hand to his cheek, running my thumb against the stubble along his jaw.

" Matty, baby?" I whispered. Finally, his eyes flickered open and out of what seemed like a reflex from his alert body, he grabbed a hold of my hand that was touching his face. Even though it was rather forceful, I just smiled kindly at him.

" You are okay. It was just a nightmare," I soothed, seeing as he loosened his grip around my wrist with a loud exhale. His eyes softened from their state of fear.

"Fuck," he breathed, leaning his head back against his pillow, running his fingers through the curls that had stuck to his face.

I turned my head to look at the time. 4.37.

"I'll get you some water," I smiled, stepping out of bed. We had arrived home pretty late from our trip to Blackpool, so I had just passed out wearing his hoodie, when we had arrived back at Denise's house. 

I saw Matty sit up against the wall out of the corner of my eye, as I exited his bedroom and walked downstairs into the kitchen. I tried my best to be quiet, not wanting to wake up Denise and Louis at this time of the night. I tiptoed, reaching into the cupboard and grabbed a glass and filled it before making my way back upstairs.

He already looked more composed and calm when I entered the room.

" Here you go." I handed him the glass as I sat down beside him, resting my back against the wall. 

" Thanks, " he mumbled, sipping the water. I put my hand on his knee, rubbing my finger across it.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked, studying his face through the curtain of his hair. 

" I would, but I can't remember what it was about, " he said under his breath " I never can."

I nodded my head not wanting to pressure him any further.

" My mind just has this scary capability to be all deranged, dark and demented. It's scary," he explained further, meeting my eyes.

" Are you afraid of your dreams?"

" Yes," he said quietly, looking back at his fingers that were locked around the glass of water. 

"What triggers it?" I asked " The nightmares?"

" I don't know. They always start out alright but then they turn all surreal and messed up. It's scary because my dreams and nightmares always have the same people in them." He sipped his water and put the glass on the bedside table and reached for the packet of cigarettes that rested on the table beside it. 

"Want one?" he asked as he placed a fag between his lips and held out the packet towards me.

" No thanks, just a drag of yours," I replied, studying him as he lit the cigarette. He took a drag and exhaled with a deep sigh and rested his head back against the wall. He stretched his hand out towards me, making me lean in and grab the cigarette between my lips, taking a drag.

" Is there a pattern?" I asked, leaning back, resting my body weight against my hands. "with the nightmares?" 

His eyes met mine. " No." 

He took another drag of his cigarette, exhaling slowly. 

" I haven't had nightmares in a long time. Whenever I'm fucked on something, I don't have them," he explained, putting out the rest of his fag. 

" The only way I can sleep in peace is by taking something," he said, looking down at his hands. They were shaking lightly. He seemed fidgety in general now that I thought about it. 

"Matty," I whispered and sat down in his lap with one leg on either side of him.

 " I'm proud of you." I moved a strand of hair away from his face. 

" I know it's hard." 

" That's the thing. " He grabbed my wrist and moved my hand away from his face. 

" You think you know how it is because you read it in a psychology book, but that doesn't even get close to how it is" he objected. I instantly closed my eyes and swallowed hard. This wasn't the time. I squeezed my eyes shut, took a deep breath and looked back at him.

 " Matty, just believe me when I say, that I know all too well how it is"

He sighed. 

" Sometimes I'm just not sure whether you see me as me or the fantasy you want me to be, cause I'm not a fucking fantasy Rosie," he continued. 

At least he hadn't pushed me away.

" Matty, I like you for you and no one else, with or without drugs. I'm not saying it's gonna be easy to quit, but I'm telling you it's gonna be worth it in the end," I said calmly, not wanting this to end in a fight. 

Not here. 

Not when we could risk waking up his family.

 " Besides, it's just the dangerous stuff that you should stay away from. You know I don't mind the spliffs," I added, resting my hand over the tattoo on his chest. 

He sighed and cupped my face with his hands. He smiled lightly.

" I love you," I whispered, looking into his eyes. They had gotten softer.

" Lying is not a good look on you," he chuckled, shaking his head lightly.

" I do," I assured, pecking his lips. 

" You just have to allow yourself to be loved." 

He smiled, "I love you too."