CHAPTER 18
Theo
The following evening, I led Matthew out of Stryker’s house and through the cobbled streets to my tiny place.
“It’s not much.” I warned as we walked “a bit of a shithole, really. But I figured…I dunno, maybe you’d like to see it while we’re here? My sister brings her many boyfriends round, so it should be stocked up and stuff-“
I felt a bit embarrassed, to be honest. He’d probably hate it and I wouldn’t blame him. I don’t know what came over me to ask in the first place.
“I don’t mind if it’s a shithole. I’d love to see it.” Matthew cut off my ramble “or I wouldn’t be coming.”
“Good.” I breathed as I halted in front of the small cabin, tucked away down a darker street, beside other two similar ones. “Because this is my humble home.”
I visibly saw Matthew hesitate, and for a moment my heart began to sink. If he hated it already-
“Is it dangerous?” He asked.
I blinked, doing a double take and kind of understanding why it would warrant the question. I relaxed. Okay. He didn’t hate it yet.
“Nah.” I replied, fishing some rusty keys out of my pocket and struggled with the lock until it clicked and the door swung open with a creek.
The inside was only mildly better than the outside. There were five rooms- two bedrooms, a bathroom, kitchen and tiny living room made up of a sofa and a carpet. Everything was of mismatched colours- red, grey, brown, yellow, green- and of no impressive size.
I eyed a cookie jar on the kitchen counter, wondering how long it had been there for. I shrugged, going for it and crossing the room in four strides, grabbing one from the jar to bite into anyway. They tasted a little stale, but whatever.
“I would advise against that.” Matthew mumbled.
I flipped him off. “So, what do you think?” I asked with a small laugh “how you imagined it?”
“Not quite.” Matt confessed “could be worse, though. No broken windows or peeling walls.”
“Hmm. Guess so. My sister’s a designer, y’know. You can tell she didn’t help with this.”
Matthew laughed, eyes twinkling.
We settled on the sofa, me bringing the jar of cookies with me.
Matthew stretched himself out, resting his feet in my lap. “So, how come you don’t live with your parents? Because they always put you in a shit mood?”
I winced, adverting my gaze “mostly, yeah. Didn’t feel welcome. Dad was never there, like yesterday, and…mum was having a bit of a bad time, didn’t really appreciate company much. I needed space.”
Matthew snorted “sorry, sorry, but…space is…rich.”
“Metaphorically.” I stuck my tongue out childishly “I did try to borrow my dad’s place, but we got into an argument because he wanted me back home looking after my sister and mother in his absence so I told them all to go fuck themselves and moved here.”
“Ah. Classy of you.”
“Wasn’t it?”
We stayed on the couch for a little while longer, making small talk and joking around, finishing cookies, in my case, before I suggested heading to bed. I was beginning to feel a little funny, truth be told, but didn’t mention it yet.
We made a pit stop to the bathroom to brush our teeth.
I chewed my lip and leant against the sink as Matt did “hey, so, I know I brought you here for a reason.” I murmured, glancing at the other “and that you probably came here for the same reason, but…I’m kinda…not feeling up for sex tonight?”
I held my breath, waiting for him to raise an eyebrow and tell me to head back to Stryker’s and sleep on a much comfier bed, then.
Instead, after a second long pause and with a small shrug, he replied “that’s fine, lovely.”
That was a pet name. I was pretty damn sure that was a pet name that he’d already used once before and it had made me feel all funny and tingly inside. Did we do that? Give each other pet names? I wasn’t capable of it, but him giving me one was…oddly delightful. It made me feel special.
Matthew didn’t even seem to notice that he’d used it.
“I mean, we still can, I’m just feeling a bit run down.” I continued sheepishly “might not be as good as usual.”
“You don’t have to justify yourself.” He assured me softly, opening his mouth as if to say more but thinking better of it.
“But-“
“No buts. You alright, though?”
"Just think I’m tired ."
Matthew visibly fought back a smile, handing me the toothbrush and moving behind me to squeeze some tension from my shoulders, drawing a little moan from me.
When I blew the light out, Matthew was already in bed with the duvet half-covering his chest.
"Took you long enough," he said, wrinkling his nose playfully at me. "S'it weird to say I'm excited t'sleep?”
"Probably, but you are weird, so" I said with a cheeky grin, though I felt the same way. I slid my way beneath the covers beside him, but stopped suddenly, propped up on my elbow before I could get comfortable.
“Oh…shit.”
“What’s wrong?”
"N-nothing. My stomach felt weird just then." I gingerly settled myself down, letting Matthew pull me in and rest a hand on my stomach. Everything was fine for a blissful few minutes before I started to feel hot and my throat kind of funny, but I tried to push it away and kept my eyes closed.
"If s'too hot y'can take off a blanket," Matthew said sleepily.
"What?"
"You're sweaty, lovely," he murmured into my hair and folded down one of the blankets halfway. I put a hand over Matthew’s where it rested on my stomach, gently grabbing at it.
"S'wrong?"
"Still feels off." I was embarrassed by my desperate need for Matthew’s touch, but it was the only thing I could think of that could possibly help settle me.
"Your stomach?"
I squeezed Matthew’s fingers in confirmation. He carefully rubbed circles onto it and kissed the back of my neck,
“You’ll be fine.” He promised “honestly, I think it was all of those stale cookies. You finished the whole jar.”
I grunted, cheeks heating up. He was right. Of course he was right.
I tried to fall asleep after that, but even though I was exhausted I kept waking up every twenty minutes or so, tossing and turning or startled into awareness by cramps. Matthew shifted, eyes fluttering open “can’t sleep?”
“Hm. No.”
“Stomach still off?”
“Yeah.”
He sighed, kissing my shoulder and rubbing my sweaty back. I rolled over to face him “why are you still awake?”
“You keep moving around, lovely.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. I’m just worried about you.”
“I’m okay.” Even as I said so, another cramp seized my middle and I cringed, hand flying to the spot.
“Hm.” Matthew frowned, sitting up. My eyes tracked his movements.
“Need something? Tea? Hot water bottle? Both?”
“Both sounds good.” I breathed.
Matthew just smiled at me “want a bath, too?”
“It’s late. And I don’t have a nice bath.”
Matthew kissed me affectionately and got up.
He appeared again ten minutes later with two mugs of tea, just as I was starting to doze off again.
He climbed back into bed and passed me my mug.
I curled into Matthew’s side, resting my head on the warmth of his chest.
We sat in silence for a few moments, sipping our teas.
“It cool enough?” Matt asked softly.
“Huh?” I blinked, turning my head to catch his eye.
He smiled at me fondly “it’s not scalding hot, is it?” He clarified.
“Oh. No. It’s perfect.” I murmured “thank you.”
Once I’d finished I placed my empty mug on the bedside table, shifting and nuzzling my face into the crook of Matthew’s neck.
“Tired?”
“Yeah.”
He placed a warm, smooth object on my stomach. I blinked down at it “water skin.” I said dumbly.
Matthew chuckled “hot water bottle.” He corrected “You never used one like this?”
I frowned at the leather pouch and shook my head slowly “nope. Just…mum…didn’t coddle us much.”
He hummed “well, you’ll feel better tomorrow, I think.”
“Thanks, Matt.”