64yrsold
it’s simple and it goes like this:
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where are u babes? hope u are well! :)
IM SORRY i’m alive but struggling. you won’t believe this but i had a SECOND heartbreak incident with the same guy 😭😭😭 never trust an emotionally unavailable man. also i need to stand up for myself. so yeah im just trying to survive rn
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matty and ross in Manchester, photo by jordan hughes
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// 18.02.24 // Manchester N.2 //
© the1975_genius
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did you abandon wintering?
noo i unfortunately had a heartbreak incident 😞😔💔 currently hating love and couples and anything romantic . but don’t worry i will not leave wintering unfinished i promise 💖. maybe it will turn into summering. lol
me rn: (emo)
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“We are gentle, sensitive boys. We love each other, and the band is everything to us – the only thing.” - Matty Healy
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// ... if we gonna do anything we might as well just fu*k // 💙
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chocolate :-)
“Hi darling,” he said, voice crackling over the phone.
“Good morning,” I mumbled, sitting up in bed and stretching. “Where did you go?” I asked, looking at his vacant side of the bed.
“I thought I’d grab you a coffee,” he replied, “But I wanted to check, warm or cold today?”
“Hmm,” I thought, and glanced outside. It was dreary, cold, and grey. Perfect. “Warm, please.”
“Coming right up, love. Keep the bed warm for me,” he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice.
“Alright, love you.”
“Love you.”
I ended the call, tossing my phone across the bed. I laid back down, staring up at the ceiling. Maybe I should get up. I stretched my arms above my head, inhaling into the corners of my lungs. Maybe I won’t.
I closed my eyes. I was supposed to warm the bed, anyways.
———
“Hi,” he whispered, brushing the back of his hand against my arm to wake me.
“Shit,” I looked around, “Sorry, I fell asleep,”
“Happy birthday,” he said, the corners of his mouth tipping upwards. He placed a bouquet of roses on the bedside table, along with the coffee.
“Oh my God,” I whispered, eyes wide with shock, “How did you figure out my birthday.”
He laughed. I had insisted on keeping my birthdate a secret, not wanting to pressure him into getting me an extravagant gift in our first year of dating.
“I just looked at your driver’s license.” he admitted. He wouldn’t meet my gaze.
“How long have you known!”
He bit his lip.
“How long.”
“Since our first date.” he winced, prepared for my reaction. “When you wouldn’t tell me your birthday, I just had to know. So I checked when you stepped outside for a moment.”
“You went through my wallet on our first date!” I gasped, laughing in disbelief.
“I’m sorry,” he giggled, “Not really though.”
I sighed.
“Well, this is really sweet of you. Thank you.” I leaned forward to kiss his cheek. “You’re lucky you’re so pretty. You can get away with snooping though my wallet.”
He stuck his tongue out between his teeth. I grabbed a coffee from the table, wrapping my hands around it to warm them. I took a sip, perfectly bittersweet and soothing.
“Oh, it’s perfect today,” I grinned, and he seemed satisfied. I set the coffee down, and pulled him into bed. He laughed, rolling beside me. I traced my fingers over his forehead and into his hair, twisting his curls. I kissed his forehead, and he knew it meant thank you.
“What would you like to do today?” he asked, leaning into my hand in his hair, “Or would you like to do what I’ve planned?”
“Did you actually plan something.” I said flatly, holding my breath.
“Of course I did.” he said, frowning at what he thought was an obvious question.
“Well,” I paused, placing a soft kiss on his lips, “I am curious.” He hummed against my lips with satisfaction, wrapping a hand around my neck. His thumb traced under my jaw as he kissed me gently, barely brushing my lips. He breathed in soft gasps, dragging his lips over mine.
“You wouldn’t,” I murmured, “Tease me on my birthday, would you?” My heart was throttling in my chest.
“Never,” he whispered, kissing down my neck to my collarbone. He lingered on my pulse, sucking at the skin for a moment before nudging downward to the center of my chest. “God, your body is a gift,” he mumbled, sighing into my skin. He pulled the covers off me, adjusting to sit in between my legs, hands running over my hips.
“Was this your first plan?” I smirked, and he rolled his eyes.
“Maybe,” was all he had to say, hands moving over me as if he were memorizing every feature.
“Alright then,” I giggled, and he looked up at me, pupils blown out to the edges of his irises.
“Yes ma’am,” he said, face soft and dreamy, “Anything for my birthday girl.”
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Matty Healy in every The 1975 music video (Part One)
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