Gil's POV (a week later)

I poked my bruise for the millionth time this week. It probably wasn't helping it at all but it helped my boredom. Well, I was feeling some excitement instead of the same dull numbness for the past week. I finally get to see Matt again to give him his homework.

I just went to his house straight after school because it wasn't worth going home then coming here. As if Toni would even let me go. He'd be on my ass about it for no reason. I can't even breathe without him freaking out. It's annoying.

So, here I am at his front door. And I honestly can't bring myself to knock. I just keep poking my bruise to get a sense of reality. I lifted my hand to the door and knocked ever so lightly. Immediately, the door swung open. I didn't even get a word in when I was pulled into a bone crushing hug.

"Is it weird to say I missed you?" Matt asked with a significantly quieter voice than I remember.

"Is it weird to say I missed you too?"

"That actually makes me feel better." He lightly chuckled, letting me go. "I've got a lot of explaining to do, don't I?"

"I guess so." I gave a sardonic shrugged.

"Well, get in." He grabbed my hand and pulled me in to the house. He shut the door while I made my way in and put my bag down. The house wasn't as lively as I remember it. It was quiet and dark. Something he very much wasn't looking to be.

I turned around, "So, what's up?" I asked before he attacked me with a sudden kiss. I mean, I wasn't even opposed to it. It was relieving actually.

He pulled away, "Sorry-I-I just needed that."

"It's alright." I cupped his cheeks. "I totally get it."

"You're literally a perfect human being you know that, eh?"

"Well, you're right, but hardly."

"That's an oxymoron."

"You're an oxymoron."

"Poetic." His hands moved to meet mine and pulled them off. "You want anything to drink?"

"What do you have?"

"Water, juice, soda, wine." He mumbled.

"Wine?" I raised a brow in question at the random mention. "Should I be concerned?"

"It's just a suggestion."

"That doesn't make me any less concerned."

"Look, I've had a pretty shit week, I need something-anything, really, to just get my mind off all of it." He frowned, letting go of me and stepping back.

"I can tell you for a fact that it won't help."

"How would you know?"

"You're kidding." I half-chuckled.

"It's not like I really know much about you."

"You're right but I've had my fair share of shit weeks that I honestly can't remember."

"How was I supposed to know that? It's not like you ever talk about your past."

"It's not like you ever talk about yours either." I frowned. "It's not like you ever actually talk about what's going on in your life." I shouldn't be getting angry.  "Thanks for not telling me anything by the way." But he was pissing me off and I honestly don't even know why. "It's not like I was worried about you or anything!"

"Are you fucking serious right now?" He scowled. It was a look that didn't really fit him at all. It was strange seeing him like that. "Gilbert, I've had to take care of my dad and Francis because my brother almost died. I thought you would be a break from all that!"

"You might've wanted to start with that then! Instead of keeping me in the dark about everything then coming to cry to me."

"Did you really hate it though?"

"No, I didn't, but you can't keep doing it, Matt."

"Do you think I don't know that?" He stepped closer. "Do you think I don't know every single thing wrong with me?" The closer he got the more I found myself wanting to evade him. His presence was menacing. It was unlike him entirely. I really did piss him off. "Guess what? Habits are hard to break." It was like when we went up the stairs the one time. I stepped back and he stepped forward. It was almost a dance. "I can't help being self-destructive. I've got nothing to lose, I've got nothing more than that destruction. Why else would I have the cuts on myself? Why the fuck else would I drop everything just to come to you?!" I hit a wall. His voice was the loudest I'd ever heard it. "You're literally the one thing I can come to where I don't have to explain myself and I can actually relax!" He was inches from my face. His breathing hard as if all that yelling was the equivalent of running a mile. He took a breath. "I almost hate how in love with you I am." He whispered, his hands cupping my cheeks.

He pulled me into a hard kiss right then. I was frozen, trying to process what the hell all that meant. It hit seconds later that he was just spilling it his frustrations out after it festered within him for so long. If there was anything I could understand most, it would be just that. In those moments all I wanted was a release. If it's a release he wanted, then it was a release he would get.

I pushed against him. His lips noticably adjusting to the new movement. His hands moved to my shoulders, pressing hard. He pushed against me and kept me planted on the wall.

His hands moved again, sliding lower. He pulled away to breathe.

"You deserve better." He sighed.

"Don't ever say that to me again."

~

"I feel like such an idiot." Matt suddenly declared, sitting up.

"Why?" I held my head in my hand, my elbow digging into a pillow.

"I let everything get out of hand."

"It's not like it was all your fault."

"You're right but I can't help feeling guilty." 

"That does nothing but make the problem worse to you."

He turned to me, "You sound like a wise old man."

"I sure do feel old."

"Comparably, I'm a five year old."

"Not true." I protested. "Quit hating yourself, that's what'll get you right back into the same situation."

"Now that just makes me feel like more of an idiot." He fell back. "I've been in a loop again and again and I somehow haven't noticed until now."

"And that's fine. No one ever has it figured out."

"Well shit, usually people that have it all figured out say that, could it be so the rest of us don't feel like shit?"

"No, it's more like a selfish thing so we don't feel bad about screwing things up."

"Do you..." He shifted to his side. "Do you feel bad about all this?"

"Well, I didn't mean for us to fight earlier." I sighed. "And I didn't mean to accidentally become you're only escape or to end up falling for you or to even meet you for that matter." I really didn't mean to do a lot of things in my life that cause as many emotions as this. I always think of ways I could've changed everything. Even if I didn't mean to do most of it.

"What did you mean to do?" If I could've done everything right, everything would be incredibly different.

"Everything." And I don't like that thought.

~the end of book 1~

Keep a look out for book two titled Mr.Brightside it'll come soon enough, I swear. It's the end of an era, the end of a rewrite, the end of chapter. It's time to start something new. Some fresh new territory. Let's see how this goes.

Here's a sneak peak to the next book, a gift from me to you, the loyal reader that's spent time reading this fic that I put all of myself into:

We sat at the dining table. The sounds of the spoons hitting the bowls full of chilli echoing through the room. The aroma was making my mouth water but I just couldn't bring myself to eat Francis' delicious food. Not with this tension. Not with Dad watching Al weakly pick at his food. Out of all four of us, Francis was the only one eating.

Even then, he wasn't eating much because the tension in the room was so thick it made things hard to swallow. Al ultimately sighed and pushed the bowl away.

"I'm sorry, I can't do this."

"Why not?"

"Because I can't." He stood up and walked off to the living room. He laid in his makeshift bundle on the couch.

"That's better than last time." Francis weakly smiled.

~coming soon~