𝐍𝐎𝐍-𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒

No, I don't want your body but I hate to think about you with somebody else

LONDON, UK
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Matty was driving to my house.

He was going to meet me here cause every other public place was a no and his house was a big no. I didn't ask. Probably his girlfriend, or whatever she was for him, was cooking in his kitchen cause they're relationship goals.

I was nervous.

I fixed my hair, looking at my own reflection in the mirror. I put on a random white top. Even a bra. I didn't want this meeting to be more than what I asked. A talk. His presence.

I put on a pair of jeans and hurried cause Matty was knocking at my door.

"Hi." I said.

His hair was growing back, but he still had that weird mohawk that, I had to admit, wasn't that bad. Still, he looked different. He didn't look like the same curly man who held me in his arms, slept next to me in his bed, taught me how to play a guitar. Everything that had happened between us seemed far away, so far that I wondered if it really happened.

"Hi", he said back, with a smile.

Our bodies tried to touch, but our hug didn't happen. I didn't know how to act and probably he didn't either.

I let him enter inside. My apartment was tiny, but comfortable. I was quite messy, but I put everything in order as I arrived. I didn't have to and I knew Matty wouldn't be bothered to see my clothes piled up on the floor. Yet, as soon as I arrived at the airport I quickly called a cab and I rushed home. It was past dinner time and I hadn't even eaten, but at least my flat was clean. I didn't know why I cared that much.

"You live here all alone?", he asked, looking around.

"Yep", I answered. "I like to have my indipendence."

"I would have bet on it", he glanced at me and winked, before he stopped in front of the wall full of my old pictures. He smiled softly now, looking at one specific photograph. "Your parents?"

I got close to see better. Little me was blowing out five candles. Mum and dad smiled next to me.

"You look so much like your dad."

I shook my head, almost offended. "That's not true."

"Oh? I bet everyone tells you that. You have your dad's eyes. Even the same expression."

"That's not true."

Matty tried to protest more, but soon understood it wasn't the case to keep comparing me to my dad. An awkward silence fell over us. I headed to the kitchen and he followed me without saying words.

I took two beers from the fridge. "Unfortunately, I have no bottles of wine to offer you."

He leaned against the table, faking confusion. "What do you mean? I'm a man who drinks tea."

He shouldn't have hinted at the conversation we had right before having sex for the first time. Or maybe he didn't do it on purpose. Maybe he didn't even remember it.

We went on the balcony. He took a sip of beer and he wiped his mouth with his arm, a gesture that badly matched his feminine ways. He lit a cigarette. His smoke embraced us both and I let it enfold me. I inhaled deeply his toxic air, the smell recalled old memories. All Malrboro smell the same, but Matty's always seemed different.

He looked at me cautiously. "So how are you?"

"Better, I guess."

"For real?"