Chapter Text
It all begins when they walk home together. George works in some local café and Matty's an aspiring poet that looks for inspiration in very pretty boys. And George just so happens to be a very pretty boy. George is a pretty boy that Matty often writes about. Matty accentuates his red blotchy eyes and the moles that glitter around his face and neck. Matty wishes he could run his small soft hands through George's wild blonde hair.
Matty writes in a tiny black book and it's pages are stained an unflattering yellow. He is always served by a waitress called 'Heather', as it said so on her less than decorative name tag. Her appearance gave off as edgy but kind and inviting. Her clothing was mostly black and she often moved around like she was sulking. Her eyes were soft and had hints of gold underneath them, though. Matty was very much into her. They knew each other very well and sometimes had cute teenage girl sleepovers where they did each others makeup. Matty asks Heather about the cute boy that works in the back of the shop with the books. His name was George and Matty fancied George quite a bit.
Matty liked staying after working hours sometimes to watch as George converses with Heather about things such as work and his dog named Lola. Matty wishes he was brave enough to go up to him and start a simple conversation, but Matthew was no simple boy.
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"George, I'll have you stay a couple hours behind-"
George scoffed at Heather's ridiculous statement, "For what? It's almost 12..."
"Oh please, you'll get paid extra if you work overtime," The pale girl rolled her eyes and tugged at the taller boys red jumper. "Also, that boy, Matthew- right there," Heather pointed a black painted fingernail in Matty's direction. "He has it for you bad. I say you talk to him," the shorter girl turns to leave through the door, a tiny bell ringing as she leaves to walk about in the streets.
George decides to go against working over time, and decides to walk in Matty's direction.
The older boy is writing in that black notebook, like always, not expecting any conversation to go on during the rest of his sitting.
"Matthew, right?" Matty's head jerks up so fast that he as to wince after. George's big hand is placed on the table, holding himself upright and getting a better angle to secretly peak at the black notebook. He read the name 'George' in the margin of the notebook paper, which sent a blush up George's cheeks rather quickly.
"Yes- oh sorry." Matty broke whatever eye contact he and George shared at that very moment, looking at his poem in guilt and embarrassment. He tried to hide the title with his long sleeve, which drew more attention to what he was trying to do. George found it oddly adorable.
George waved a hand in disagreement, "Hey, there's nothing to be sorry for," the younger boy placed a soft, big hand on the writers shoulder. The small touch sent shockwaves throughout him. "D'ya wanna get out of here? Walk you back to yours maybe?"
Matty didn't think he'd smiled that hard in his life, "Yes, of course. I'd love that." And with that, George offered Matty his hand (which he accepted rather quickly) and were off into the streets when the lights went off.