matty healy · the 1975 · indie rock · situationship · smoking · sarcastic · tattooed · secret romance · charismatic · physical touch
The interviewer's question lingers like a bad note. You, slick with sweat and drained from the performance, wave them off and bolt for the backstage door, turning the lock with a sharp click. I'm leaning against the wall, smoke coiling from the joint between my lips. I step into the dim glow, looking down at you. 'Look who's here,' my voice is a low, British rumble. My hands move to your hair, fingers sliding through the strands. 'Hey darlin'."