#oh gosh i godmodded so much i'm sorry!!

[alotofwrittenwords]

🕯- My muse has lost someone very close to them, and they aren’t taking the pain of grief very well. aubs/matt.

ummm enjoy the novel that no one ordered. (that would be a good title for matt’s biography bye)

At this point, Matthew would give anything for one of his roommate’s witty remarks. He would ruin another Harry Potter marathon for her by discussing the proper use of an invisibility cloak if it meant he would hear her clever quips again. Hell, he’d dress up in a tutu for a(n un)forgettable performance of his personal favourite ballet ‘Ginselle’ if it would make her giggle instead of putting up that best fake smile. 

Although granted, Matt was just guessing what was different about her. Perhaps she was perfectly fine as she led on. He’d never seen Aubree deal with grief before, never had her pick up a white and black-rimmed envelope before from their mail stack and watch her go silent - so what did he know? Right?

Well, for starters, he knew he was selfish. Selfish enough to want his best friend back and not this hollowed out copy strutting around the apartment that was playing anything but sad music and avoided any sentence that didn’t have the word ‘party’ in it. Matthew knew there was more to Aubree than that and he weirdly wanted it back. So he did what any senseless man would do and engaged in the small talk that turned out to be a fucking trap set out for him.

All he had asked for was a cold one from the kitchen. But now he sat pinned in the hot seat, trapped from both sides by her beautiful legs. It’s almost as if she had perfect control of not only her body but the clothes on it because Matt could swear that every time he took a peek down between their bodies, her sweater dress had crept up just an inch higher.

“Any other day...” He trailed off, nodding while still clearly distracted by his roommate’s charm. He would do it. He would do her. “But this is not okay.” The words stunned himself more than they probably stunned her. But he’d pushed them out anyway. Matthew couldn’t care less whether she’d use him as some sort of emotional rebound. He couldn’t count all the times he’d used as a way to cope - to feel or to forget - on both hands so he would be the last person to judge or deny her that. It’s just that... Aubree was his friend. As one sometimes drunkenly even referred, his best friend. Knowing her for a few years now, he could tell something was simply off. So he wanted her to get off his lap or laugh at him when she made him out to be an idiot for even considering her feelings. Either would reassure him, really.

The brunette had always been the tougher one out of them both (even though that was one of Matthew’s favourite things to deny). Always ready to shake him out of any slump he’d ever suffered through, ready to not talk to him until he found his balls back or drag him out to his regular bar with the promise of introducing him to one of her girl friends if all else failed. She never took any pity on him because he always pitied himself enough for two. 

As poetic as it sounds, this time Matt’s gut told him it was the other way around. He would have to tell her to put down her shields and stop being so fucking tough for one moment. If she was anything like him, he knew asking for help didn’t seem like an option. There was the guilt, shame and feeling of not being worth it. So he couldn’t wait for her to ask him. He would just help her.

Though it felt risky, she was already climbing off his lap with an unphased eye roll so there wasn’t much time to think.

Friendship first, he encouraged himself in his head, bracing himself for the possible backfiring of what he was about to do. Surprisingly now that he did consider this one woman’s feelings, he realized he did not want to offend, insult nor hurt her. But being a friend takes a commitment. A willingness to take a risk for the best friendship he’d had in a lifetime.

Uncharacteristically gently, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her back. “Aubs, I’m going to do something... you might not like it but I think you need it nonetheless.” Matt swallowed as their eyes locked.

She seemed confused by how genuinely nervous he was and Matt knew he had to seize the opportunity to do this before her brain shifted back into its usual defensive, sarcastic mode. For once, he didn’t want this to be brushed off as a joke. Grabbing his warm hoodie from the couch’s backrest, he reached up to drape it around her and tried to cover her up a little. (The best he could for his first attempt at putting clothes on a woman instead of off.) She cocked an eyebrow. Her glossy lips twitching as if they were ready to burst out in husky giggles at his theatrics any second. But before she could ask ‘that’s it?’, he did it. 

He wrapped his arms around her petite frame and hugged her. Trying to keep her close and warm the best he could. “I won’t tell, you know?” Matt promised his friend. “You can cry and we’ll drink a bottle of wine for a change and no one has to ever know you have a heart.”

His attempt at a chuckle got stuck in his throat. The whole room suffocated his laughter. Their laughter. His eyes were screwed shut as he prepared himself for the worst and imagined her walking out on him, leaving him to be the inconsolable one tonight. But then the sweet flood of relief washed over him as she let her head rest on his chest and his whole body relaxed as she allowed his awkward embrace.

“Fuck, what can’t I cry, Matty?” She was trying while she whispered to him, he could tell. Probably hoping it would lift the guilt from her voice and drain the sadness from her system.

He sat back. Looking at her properly, he cupped her face in both of his hands and for a moment it must’ve looked like he was about to kiss her, which made him smile. “It’s because you got your make up done all pretty, love.”

It caught him off guard when she hugged him back and he knew this was a ‘forget or regret’ kind of situation but it felt nice. “Look I don’t have the real answers but no one does, really. Sometimes we lose something. And unless it’s a game of darts after doing three rounds of shots, it’s never fucking fair nor can it be forgotten about by sleeping it off with a hangover.” Matt knew. He’d been trying that for the last 12 years. “I think you just have to feel, whether that is sad or angry or indifferent. And you do it in a spot where you feel comfortable to do so. Like, right here. And if you think it’ll help, you can try to put it into words but that’s one you probably could’ve figured out yourself, am I right songwriter?” Without noticing, he’d started playing with the tips of her hair and thought of how fucking ironic it was that he was using his mum’s advice. One woman’s words to another were always more helpful, no? “Then each day, it’ll feel less like part of you is gone. Because you’ll have filled it up with other meaningful shit and you’ll be whole again.”

“What if I want to be whole right now?”

“Then you just gotta look at me and hopefully that image of your future scares you enough to actually handle your feelings well and realize that there’s more wrong with pretending to be whole than with being human.” He laughed half-heartedly. They’d pulled back during their talk, for which Matt was kinda glad since he was smelling under his armpits and was certain she could tell. And now there was a silence, keeping them both from saying that one thing they knew would make the other beam like the sun. It was a thanks from Aubs in his case. And with a sigh, he decided to just say out loud what it was in her case, “I guess you’ll always be the toughest out of us two, padfoot.”