Cliché

Contrary to popular belief, Matt Nicholls was not as much of a player as his rep made him out to be.

Sure, when tour rolled around the tattooed drummer would be with a different girl every night, even though they all seemed identical. Mile long legs, breasts bigger then bowling balls, a clean smell and lack of STD's were his only requirements. The other members of the band as well as the techs seemed to think of it as a ride; you must be at least this tall and this old to ride Matt’s cock, form a single file line, please.

However, Matt himself was never really into that whole scene. He liked to think it was it was the life he was supposed lead- play a show, drink enough to kill an elephant, then fuck a bird and repeat. It was every guys dream job, one with absolutely no responsibility.

And sure, it was fun, but it was not what Matt wanted.

It was such a fucking cliché that Matt got angry at himself often due to it. It wasn't something a boy like him was supposed to endure, feelings that only the sappiest of drug store novels could create. Yet every time he was left alone with his thoughts he would think about it.

Long legs and giant breasts were not what he wanted. No, Matt wanted the type of girl with a quirky beauty; not the kind of beauty that the media popularized, but the kind where all of her imperfections made her breathtaking.

He wanted the type of girl who doesn’t know she's that beautiful, and therefore doesn’t flaunt it like the tour whores. He wanted her nose to be slightly crooked, ears a little too small, freckles dotting over her cheeks delicately. He wanted her to be oblivious to the way boys look at her, smile at her for too long, hold doors for her when they usually try to rush through first.

Matt also wanted her personality to be as quirky as her looks. Not a drinker per say, but she had to know how to have a good time. She needed smarts, the kind that made jealous that he wasn’t as witty as the girl. He wanted her to be kind, willing to help anyone and everyone that needed it. Persistent and lovable, she had to be, with a smile that made him want to smile back immediately.

The only thing that didn’t fit into that particular dream equation was Matt himself. He did not get nice girls with big hearts; he got bitchy girls with big breasts. He was doomed to this fate as long as he was employed with a job such as his, as long as there were tattoos littering his skinny frame and stretchers in his ears. As long as he continued to act like a man whore on tour, he would be stuck with the fate of never having a real relationship, with a real girl who he could actually have a conversation with, instead of the usual hump’n’dump.

In Matt’s mind, as long as he would live he would never get a girl like Ivory.

-

"C'mon, Matthew, time to get up,"

The tattooed boy groaned at the noise, head pounding like he had been hit by a truck. His bloodshot eyes opened and he blinked a couple times, trying to get his eyes to focus on the figure speaking to him.

"I’m glad I know you so well, or I would have been sitting in a restaurant, waiting for a boy who was never going to come," the voice continued, light teasing tone showing that there was no harsh meaning to the words.

Matt’s eyes finally settled on the girl standing in front of his door, a smile adorning his face. The familiar figure looked so out of place here, in his cluttered black and blue room. The way she contrasted almost comically with her perfectly neat pink t-shirt and jean shorts with the chaos of his bedroom made his grin only widen.

"Maybeh I was jus' waiting for yeh to come 'ere so I could get yeh into meh bed,” he said with a smile, hand moving to ruffle his crazy bed head.

Ivory only shook her head before swiping her golden curls out of her face and walking over to the half-asleep boy. She handed him two Advil and a mug of warm tea. Sitting on the bed beside his sprawled out form, she sighed and shook her head.

"I really don't get why you do that, drink yourself silly," Ivory commented, tracing the tattoo on his chest with one slim finger, "it's not like you benefit from it at all."

Matt only smiled cheekily at her, heaving himself into a sitting position, "It was the last day of tour; I’ve got ta party wiff meh mates."

"Yes, well I guess I can understand that. But as for now, get dressed in something semi decent- no blood or gore please. I'm taking you out to a late lunch whether you like it or not. Now, get dressed, I have to ring Melody and remind her what to do for the day."

She looked at Matt pointedly before standing up and walking to his door. Turning on her heel, she gave him another look, "Now, Matthew."

With that she left, shutting the door softly behind her. Matt couldn't wipe the smile off his face, thinking of how nice she looked in her outfit and how cute her accent was. Although Ivory was also British, she had grown up in Weybridge.

The unlikely pair had been friends since they were in the womb, due to the fact that their mothers had been college roommates and best friends ever since.

They grew up together, going to the same grade school in Sheffeild before Ivory’s mother had gotten a job opportunity in Weybridge and they moved. However, the distance didn't keep the young kids apart, and they demanded to see each other every weekend. They had written letters when their parents refused to make the almost four hour drive, upgrading to laptops with webcams when they reached their teen years.

After Ivory had finished university, she moved back to Sheffeild, saying that her home was wherever her boy was.

Although Matt and Ivory were complete opposites, somehow they got along perfectly. Their friends knew better then to question the relationship now, only casting smiles in their direction when Ivory instructed Matt to get his elbows off the table, or when Matt grabbed Ivory a beer and told her to live a little.

Millions of memory's flitted through Matt’s head as he showered and dressed. He pulled on a pair of skinnies and a t-shirt, blood and gore free, just for Ivory. He knew that if he even put on his goriest shirt, she would force him to change. And he would, because, well, it was Ivory.

The smiling boy clomped down the stairs noisily, turning into the kitchen to see Ivory still on the phone. She held a hand to her lips, eyebrows furrowed.

"Yes, but if Andy isn't coming in then someone has to board. Yes, melody, but the German Sheppard that had surgery last night needs extra care, and that sick Jack Russell needs a longer walk to get fresh air into his system."

Matt shook his head as he stalked over to the counter, grabbing a banana. Ivory’s loving nature had made her want to become a vet, and she eventually opened her own clinic at the young age of twenty-four. She was extremely serious about her work, to the point where she almost never took days off. For Matt, though, she always did.

He watched the girl as she continued to talk into the cordless phone, face serious and slightly worried as she explained dosages, scheduled appointments, and other such things to the worker on the other end of the phone.

He opened his banana and moved to her line of vision. Sticking it in his mouth, he held it there as his left hand traveled to his armpit and his right atop his head. He danced around, quietly making monkey noises as Ivory tried to bite back her laughter.

"Yes, yes just call if there are any problems. I've got to go, there's a monkey in my kitchen," she said into the receiver, laughter lacing her voice.

Matt grinned widely as she hung up her phone and slapped his arm, still laughing.

“I swear sometimes, Matthew, you have the brain of a five year old,” she giggled, turning to put the phone back on the hook.

“Bu’ that’s why yeh love meh,” He smiled, shoving the rest of the banana in his mouth.

“Nah, she loves meh more, yeh stupid bloke,”

Matt and Ivory turned to the new addition in the kitchen, seeing Oliver standing in nothing but boxers with a cheeky smile placed on his lips.

“Olibear!” Ivory shrieked, running over to the lanky boy to throw her arms around him.

Matt watched in jealousy as his friend placed his arms around the blonde’s waist, his chin sitting on top of her head perfectly.

“I haven’t seen you in forever!” she said, her voice muffled in Oliver’s chest. He laughed, rocking them back and forth as he answered her various questions about tour.

Matt had always been slightly jealous of his two friends relationship, as it always seemed that they were meant to be. Although Oliver’s lifestyle was the same as his own, maybe even worse in the drinking area, he could never shake the fact that Oliver had a poetic side to him that made girls fall to their knees (usually for a blow job).

“’Ow come I didn’t get a welcome like that,” Matt pouted, making Oliver wink at the slightly shorter boy.

“Because, you were half asleep and very hung over,” Ivory pointed out, stepping back from Oliver.

“Aye, he is too!” Matt tried protesting again, hand raised to point childishly at his flat mate.

Ivory only waved him off with a smile, turning back to Oliver, “Would you like to come to lunch with us? The more the merrier!”

Oliver cast a quick look over Ivory’s head to Matt, the two boys communicating with their eyes. Oliver knew about Matt’s crush on the girl, due to the fact that Oliver was the one that Matt would always bitch to about his feelings on anything. Because of this, generally the tattooed boy respected whatever Matt’s wishes were when it came to Ivory. Right now, the death glare on the boys face gave Oliver the answer he needed.

“Nah, I think I need more beauty sleep,” He quipped, turning to leave the kitchen, “Gotta keep meh face to its full potential for the ladies.”

Ivory rolled her eyes and shooed him out, turning to Matt once the tattooed screamer was gone.

“Let’s go, I’m starved.”

They soon arrived at the pair’s favourite restaurant. It had become tradition for Matt and Ivory to share a lunch date after he got back from tour, no matter the weather or amount Matt was hung over.

“There’s meh favourite couple!” a voice boomed as they walked in, making the two smile.

A short, plump man barreled out of the kitchen, chubby hands raised and ready to hug them. The bushy brown hair on his upper lip matched the tufts poking out of his hat, and his smile made his whole face light up.

“Still not dating, Ian,” Ivory laughed as she hugged the man, making Matt’s face fall the tiniest bit.

“’s onleh a matter of time,” he said, winking at Matt before showing them to their usual seat in the back corner.

Matt and Ivory sat there for a few hours, eating, joking around, and sharing stories from the past months. Although they usually skyped on the computer once a week when Matt had been on tour, everything was different in person.

Suddenly Matt’s phone rang, the screamo song ripping into the quiet atmosphere of the restaurant. He picked it up quickly, smiling sheepishly at Ian’s stern look.

“What the fuck do yeh want?” He said into the phone, rolling his eyes at Ivory.

She giggled at him, making him smile- a smile that disappeared when Oliver started shouting into the phone. He winced, holding the cell phone a few centimeters away from his ear.

“- so yeh can fuckin’ man up and tell Ivory how yeh feel about her,” Matt caught when the yelling died down and he had put the phone back to his ear, “I mean, what better place than a party?”

“We’re ‘aving a party?” He asked, completely caught off guard.

He could practically hear Oliver rolling his eyes as the lanky boy explained what he had just said, this time in a quieter tone. Matt agreed and hung up, looking up at Ivory. She was playing with the remains of the food on her plate, completely zoned out.

“Aye, loveleh girl,” He said, snapping in her face.

She jumped and looked up, glaring playfully at Matt, “What do you want, you little bugger?”

“I want ta party wiff yeh,” He said with a grin, knowing what she was going to say before she even opened her mouth.

“Party? Matthew, you just had one last night! I swear you’re an alcoholic,” she grumbled, but the smile on her rosy lips gave her charade away.

“So, yeh in?” he grinned, toying with his hands in his lap.

“Hm, would I like to spend my night in a short dress surrounded by drunk, horny boys?” Ivory said in mock thought, tapping her chin with a finger.

Matt laughed lightly, knowing that she was going to come either way. He was going to force her if she was dead set against it, but he knew he would eventually make the small blonde crumble. She was a sucker for his dimples.

“Please? If it makes yeh feel better I won’ drink…” she raised an eyebrow at him, so he sheepishly finished with, “much!”

Matt grinned at her, his chocolate brown eyes widening in excitement and anticipation. Ivory groaned; face falling slightly as she took in her friend’s way of persuasion.

“Dammit, Matthew, why are you so fucking cute?” she grumbled under her breath, making Matt’s heart secretly skip a beat.

“Yes!” he cheered, raising his fist in victory.

She laughed at the boy before calling Ian over to the table for the check. It was almost eight, and she needed time to get ready. She might not be a partier, but she loved dressing up for one.

“My house or yours?” she questioned as the stood to leave, wrapping her arm around Matt’s own tattooed one.

“Well, I know yeh want ta go ta yehs, so lead the way meh fair lady,” he grinned, holding the door open.

She giggled and stepped through, waiting for him to follow. Matt had almost a whole wardrobe full of clothes at Ivory’s, all from when he had slept over and forgotten them at her house. Likewise with Ivory at Matt’s house- they were practically living together apart from tour.

At the apartment, Ivory told Matt to wait on the couch and watch a movie while she got ready. He shoved Star Wars into the DVD player and flopped down onto the couch, hearing the shower start not long after.

Matt thought back to what Oliver had said on the phone about Ivory. Was it really time to man up? What could really go wrong?

He winced subconsciously as a million bad scenarios filled his head, most including Ivory never talking to him again. He wouldn’t be able to take it if she stepped out of his life; he had had her in it for so long that it would seem oddly empty without her bubbling presence.

Then again, he has spent almost twenty years blindly in love with her, and frankly, he was getting sick of it. Any time she did something it only made him love her more- every time she laughed at his joke, smiled at him, or held his arm his brain would turn to mush and he would have trouble comprehending normal words.

But, a bitter part of his brain spat, what if she does love you back and you end up breaking her? Matt sobered at this, thinking about the consequences of dating Ivory. He was usually gone most of the year, which would leave her alone at home, sadly waiting for her boyfriend with nothing but months of loneliness. Worse, what if he got drunk and accidentally cheated?

The boy snapped out of his thoughts as his phone buzzed, signaling a new text.

be here for 9, and for fucks sake stop freaking out

Matt smiled at the words, quickly texting Oliver back ‘fuck off’ before sliding the phone back in his pocket. But he took Oliver’s advice, clearing his brain of the thoughts plaguing it and focusing on Attack of the Clone Wars.

What felt like mere minute later, the bedroom door behind him squeaked. Matt acted as though he hadn’t heard anything, keeping focus on the TV, but in reality his heart was thumping in time with Ivory’s footsteps as she walked towards him.

God, he was such a fucking sap.

“Does this look okay?” Ivory asked voice unsure.

Matt looked up and caught his breath, a stupid smile finding its way to his lips. Her hair was in its natural state; lose curls falling down to the middle of her back. The dress that hugged her curves was strapless, ivory just like her name, and simple, the only decoration a belt of flowers just under her bust, however the simplicity of the dress was perfect for letting her natural beauty shine through.

The awed boy stood slowly, his smile making his face hurt as he met her green eyes. They shone like emeralds to him, and he subconsciously took a step towards her. Almost nose to nose, he placed his hands on her waist in affection.

“Yeh look beautiful,” Matt smiled, his voice so sincere it caught Ivory off guard.

“Oh- um, yeah t-thanks,” she stuttered, staring into her best friends eyes.

They stood like that until the ringing of a phone broke the moment. Ivory jumped, apologizing and running to grab her house phone. Left alone in the living room, Matt sighed and ran a hand through his messy mop of hair. He rubbed his face hard, trying to wake himself up.

It’s just a bird, he thought to himself boldly, but even the voice in his head sounded nervous and unsure.

That itself seemed to set something off in the boy. In that moment he gave himself an ultimatum- tonight he was either going to tell Ivory how he felt, or he never would. This was his last chance to grow a pair, and goddammit he was going to do it.

“I’m ready when you are,” Ivory said, stepping back into the living room.

Matt raised his head from his hands and smiled weakly, gesturing towards the door. She threw him a funny look but none the less stepped out of the flat, calling behind her for him to lock the door.

~

Matt never would have guessed that the one boy he would want to kill at the party would end up being his best friend, yet here he was, trying to blow Oliver’s head up with his mind.

The drummer took another swing of his beer, downing nearly half the bottle in one swallow before looking back at his best friend. Oliver had been dancing with Ivory almost the whole night, their bodies mashed together amongst the sea of people, and Matt had not once taken his eyes off them.

Okay, maybe it was his own fault for not stepping in. Hell, he hadn’t even left the arm chair he was sitting on, making other people continuously throw him beers. Matt would be the first to admit he was sulking, and he had no problem with it.

He watched as Ivory looked over at him then back to Oliver, excusing herself from him before trotting over to her distraught friend. She was covered in a light layer of sweat from both the heat of the house and the continuous dancing, yet somehow the small blonde pulled it off.

“Thought you said you weren’t going to drink,” she teased lightly, sitting on the arm rest beside him.

Matt only shrugged, not looking at her. He finished the bottle of beer in his hand before chucking it in the recycling bin.

“Fuck,” he frowned as the glass bottle bounced off the bin and onto the floor, thankfully not shattering all over the floor.

“Hey,” he heard Ivory say, and her face was soon right in front of his own, a frown pulling her rosy lips down, “What’s wrong Matty?”

His lips almost betrayed him in a smile at the nickname but he bit it back, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of seeing him happy. It wasn’t Ivory’s fault at all, but he felt as though he should take it out on her anyways.

“Jus’ stuff,” he mumbled, puckering his eyebrows at her.

Ivory rolled her eyes and brushed through his messy hair with her slim fingers, no doubt fixing the mop in the way that only she could, “C’mon, you have to tell me. Do you need to get laid or something?”

The mixture of her words, her serious facial expression, and the damn situation he was in made him crack a pitiful a smile.

“Yeh, tha’ might be it,” He said, although his heart was squeezing painfully.

He watched her as she scanned the room, talking about each of the girls there. He was, however, not listening in the slightest, only taking in his best friend. His heart squeezed once more as he realized what he was about to do, but he took it in stride.

Grasping her chin in his fingers and turning her face towards him, he took a breath as he thought of words to say. Millions of sentences, even paragraphs, flickered through his head, yet none of them seemed quite right.

“Yeh nose is crooked,” he mumbled, losing his nerve.

Her green eyes blinked in surprise before they crinkled at the corners as she smiled, “Yes, Matty, it’s from when I broke it skating. You were there, remember? You held my hand and told me it made me even more beautiful while we were waiting for the ambulance.”

He smiled faintly and nodded, taking in how she laughed at the memory. Matt sighed softly, dropping his fingers from her chin as he stood up. Ivory looked up at him from her place on the arm rest in curiosity, but he only looked down at her with a smile.

“I’ll see yeh tomorra mornin’,” He said softy, brushing a stray curl from her cheek before kissing the top of her head lightly and walking away.

Matt would not be telling Ivory his feelings for her. Not tonight, not ever.

The tattooed boy grabbed another beer before heading off to the dance floor, ready to get completely hammered and fuck another random bimbo. It was what he was supposed to do. He grabbed the nearest band slut and let her start to grind him as he chugged his beer, letting his mind wander.

Sure, Matt knew he was being ridiculous. He knew that if it were any other girl he wouldn’t have let himself sit around for so long, being just the friend. But this was Ivory, and Ivory had a certain hold over him that he just couldn’t explain.

“Fuck it!” he suddenly yelled, finally feeling the alcohol coursing through his veins.

The girl that was pressed against him looked up in curiosity, but didn’t say anything. He smirked and winked at her, the gesture letting her know how the night was going to end.

Matt continued to drink and dance with the slutty brunette, forcing his eyes to stay on her large chest instead of looking for Ivory. Yet at about eleven he let his eyes wander.

The crowd, if it was possible, seemed to have gotten thicker. There were more couples and random hookups grinding to the beat, and Matt suddenly wondered who half the people were. It didn’t surprise him much, though; that there were so many strangers in the apartment he shared with Oli. The best friends were known for their drunken escapades.

Matt smiled, thinking about his tattooed friend. He vaguely thought about the prospect of doing shots with him, letting his eyes lazily scan the room. Body flowing to the beat, Matt was just slightly intoxicated, enough to be happy- that is, until his eyes finally found Oliver.

His friend was leaning down, just about to kiss someone with the same cheeky smirk that he always has when he’s getting into a risky situation. But this time it was different- this time his lips were only mere millimeters from touching Ivory’s.

Matt growled in anger, seeming to immediately sober. Pushing off the busty brunette that had been on him most of the night, he stalked over to where his best friend and his crush of- well, forever- were about to make out. He grabbed Ivory’s arm, jerking her away from the tattooed boy.

“Matt?” Ivory said in confusion, staring at him.

But Matt wasn’t looking at Ivory for once; he was focused sourly on Oliver. The look on Matt’s face was so murderous that Oliver took a step back, hands up in surrender.

“I swear to fucking god, I will end you,” Matt barked, letting go of Ivory’s arm and taking a step towards Oliver.

“Dude, we were ju-“

“Don’t make excuses!” Matt shouted, getting right up in Oliver’s face and grabbing the front of his shirt, “Yeh did this on purpous, yeh fucking arsehole!”

Oliver looked terrified, his eyes flicking from Matt’s angry face to Ivory’s worried one.

“Matthew!” she finally yelled, placing a soft hand on Matt’s shoulder.

He immediately backed down, looking back at her with a blank expression, “Wha’?”

She only shook her head and tugged him away. It was then that Matt noticed how much of a commotion he had caused- the music had been stopped and the whole house was still, staring at the love triangle in the middle of the dance floor.

Matt only ignored them, letting Ivory tug his wrist gently upstairs to his bedroom. She barged in, not even checking for a couple like she normally would have, and slammed the door behind them. Her hand let go of Matt’s wrist and he frowned, missing the warmth that it brought.

The sadness wasn’t there for long, as it soon morphed to surprise as Ivory pushed him roughly on the bed. He looked up at her, sprawled uncomfortably on the mattress with an open mouth. Ivory was never violent at all, not when sober or drunk.

Right now, however, she looked deadly. She was glaring at Matt with all she could muster, arms crossed over her dress, and Matt off handedly wondered how she had managed to not spill on it all night.

“Matthew!” she barked, as if she could hear that his thoughts were getting side tracked, “I cannot believe you!”

Matt looked back up at her face sheepishly, still slightly dazed from the events of the past few minutes. Ivory took another step towards him menacingly.

“How could you cause such a scene? In your own house, Matt. I thought you were better than those stupid frat boys that beat on their friends for no reason!” she seethed.

Matt raised an eyebrow at her, saying nothing. He had once learned that speaking back to the small blonde when she went off on a rant usually resulted in screaming then the silent treatment, which was not particularly what he wanted right now.

“Now you’ve got a whole houseful of people thinking you’re a prick! And poor Oliver is stranded down there with them, probably trying to think of an excuse to make you seem like less of a stupid bloke!”

“Oh yeah, poor Oli,” Matt spat sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

Ivory bristled, “Yes, poor Oli! You had no right to be so rude to him for no reason!”

“Yeah, it wa’ meh who was the arse!” Matt laughed, pulling himself up to a sitting position.

The young girls eyebrows furrowed, her eyes still lit with anger, “Why the hell are you being so mean to Oliver?”

Matt stood up, fists clenched at his side in anger.

“Maybe it’s because this oh-so-sweet Oliver picture in your head isn’t true! Sure, I thought he was a good friend, bu’ then I see him almost kissing the girl I’ve loved for twenty fucking years!”

Ivory paused, her face switching from anger to shock. She watched as the boy in front of her took deep breaths, trying to calm himself as his fists clenched and unclenched.

“You’re drunk,” she said softly, lips turning into a frown.

“I’m not drunk!” Matt roared, watching as Ivory took a step back in fear,

The drummer sat down on the bed, placing his elbows on his knees and dropping his face in his hands, “I’m not drunk,” he said again, much softer this time.

It was true, Matt wasn’t drunk at all. Not only could he handle his alcohol well, but the incident with Oliver had cleared the entire buzz from his system.

The bed beside him sank down and he suddenly smelled Ivory’s soft, sweet smell beside him. He was still breathing deeply, trying to fight back both the anger and the sadness. This was not how he wanted to tell Ivory about his feelings. He was regretting the anger behind his words and feared that Ivory would only take it as a joke.

“Matty,” she said softly.

Carefully placing a hand on the wrist closest to her, she pulled it away from his face. She saw see his eyes screwed shut, still not willing to look at her. Grabbing his chin in her hand as he had done earlier to her, she turned his head towards her.

Matt opened his eyes, his heart racing in fear and anticipation. Ivory’s hand dropped from his chin and the two were left staring at each other, the tips of their noses touching.

“Your nose is crooked,” she said softly, her wide green eyes staring at the place near the top of his nose, where the bone was slightly out of place.

“I know, I broke it a month after yeh broke yehs,” he replied quietly, searching her eyes for any recognition of the words he had said earlier, “When I ran mehself into a light pole.”

Ivory’s eyes widened slightly, “I thought Lee pushed you into it.”

“No, yeh were so upset abou’ yeh being the only one wiff a crooked nose I decided ta try an’ break mine too,” He shrugged, the movement causing them to bump noses lightly.

Ivory’s eyes slid closed and she sighed, her warm breath fanning over Matt’s mouth. He bit his lip, trying to hold himself back from kissing the girl in front of him. Maybe she hadn’t heard him earlier, because it sure as hell seemed like she didn’t have any clue of Matt’s adoration of her.

“Matt?” she finally spoke after a minute of silence, her eyes not opening.

“Aye?”

Suddenly her lips captured his softly. Matt didn’t move, too surprised to kiss back. His mind seemed to be blank but full of everything, his body completely numb except for where his lips were touching Ivory’s.

He quickly snapped himself out of it, sliding his eyes closed and kissing her back. She sighed into him and he placed one of his hands on her waist, savoring how her lips tasted of lemonade cooler and- just Ivory.

They broke apart a few minutes later, foreheads pressed together, eyes still shut.

“Ivory?” Matt questioned, not wanting to break the moment but needing to get something off his chest.

“Yes?”

“I do love yeh, with every muscle in meh body,” he breathed, opening his eyes but wincing softly at how cliché it sounded.

Ivory laughed, her eyes opening as well, “I never knew you had a sweet side, Mr. Nicholls.”

“Only for yeh,” he smiled, pecking her lips again.

“Well, in that case, I guess I have to love you too,” she teased lightly, flicking his nose playfully.

The pair sat there for a while, neither sure how long, laying in the bed and just holding each other. Matt was finally content- he had the girl he’d been yearning after for years all to himself. The fact that he could kiss her whenever he wanted to overwhelmed him, so much that he continuously placed kissed on top of her head, on her cheeks, on her lips.

They knew, in that moment, that they would still have to let go of each other and face reality. Whether it was the fact that Matt was going to be leaving for who knows how long in a short amount of time or that they would have to question whether Oliver’s motives were real or just a clever plan to get Matt to man up, they were going to dace some hard times

Whatever the problem was, though, it was forgotten in the moment. Matt and Ivory were, after years of teasing and denying their relationship, together. Matt smiled softly when he pictured everyone’s reactions, ranging from I-told-you-so’s to dude-finally’s

Matt looked down at the girl in his arms and kissed her head once again, deciding he would never tire of it. And sure, it was fucking cliché, but for once in his life that didn’t bother him.