It Was Written in Blood
Such Small Hands-La Dispute (Oli Sykes/Matt Nicholls)
"I saw you in my dream," I smiled, squeezing Oli's hand.
"Yeah? What did you see?" He asked. We were in my room in the attic. It was the only place I felt truly safe in my house.
"You stitching up your seams because you broke your promise to me," I stated. He shifted a bit.
"I'm not angry, darling. Just call me next time," I shrugged, pulling back his sleeves, revealing seams that were scabbed over. I felt him nod against my back, then kiss the back of my neck.
Oli answered his phone when it rang. "Hi Vegan.... With Matt.... Really..?" He sounded disappointed with something. "That's the seventh record company. Thanks for letting me know. Bye." He hung up the phone.
"What happened?" I asked.
"That company called back and said we're not enough for their standards," He said sadly.
"Someone will like us," I encouraged, but he just sighed.
"I think I'm gonna go, sleep or something..." He mumbled, and stood up. I kissed his hand, looking up at him.
"I love you, love."
"I love you too, Matt," He whispered, then kissed my head. He left, and I heard a bang as he closed the door, even though it was soft. I think it was his passion leaving, breaking.
I saw Oli the next morning coming up on the porch. He looked shocked.
"Matt? Why are you out here? Is that beer?" I nodded to his question, taking another sip. Liquid courage. It let me go outside; it let me confront my fears.
"Oli, I think you need to leave here. We're still dating, but just leave here." My voice was slurred, I could feel it, but I still had my thoughts.
"Why?"
"The ghosts, Oli. They're in the walls and they'll get into your head by your ears," I informed him. I didn't want that for him. That's what happened to mum, and that's what happened to me. Mum's in a mental hospital, and once when Oli got angry at me, he said I was close to being in one. Oli couldn't end up like us.
"That's a risk I'll take, Matty, for you." He came up the stairs and kissed my head, pulling the beer from my hand. I let him; I was done.
"For me?" I questioned. Nobody did anything for me.
"Yes, for you. I love you too much, and if having a ghost in my head is the price for staying inside as long as you need, I think it's worth it," He explained, sitting in the other chair and holding my hand. I stayed quiet for a few minutes, and so did he.
"I saw you in my dreams again," I broke the silence. I slowly ran my fingers over his wrists.
"I'm sorry. It was too much, and Tom wasn't home, and I was worried, and-"
"Oli, stop. The same thing as last night. I'm not angry, I just wish you would call me," I shrugged, then realisation came over me. "I don't have a phone, do I?" All the times I remembered, it would be a letter that I got from Oli from the mail.
"No, Matt, you don't," He mumbled.
"Well, I'll get one. Just for you," I smiled, loving how the words slipped off my tongue. He smiled too, nodding.
"Do you think I'll get better?" I asked him.
"I don't know, baby, but it's okay if you don't."
"I want you to be sleeping off all the pain, then you hear me under the street lights, whispering your name," I pondered. He didn't question it. I think he learned to stop if it just sounded random.
"It's raining!" I gasped happily, as it started to pour. I got off the porch, standing in the rain. It was evening, and the sun was setting. The outside light came on.
"You're gonna get sick," He sighed, but joined me anyway. As it got dark, I sat on the cement, letting the rain soak through my clothes. He sat next to me. The light shone on us, from the moon and the outside light. I took his wrists into my hands, sliding his sleeves up.
"Even with your seams stitched tightly, you know they'll still scar," I told him. "But we can scrape them off each other. They'll wash in the rain, and run into the river, and who cares where they are then? The river can't complain," I suggested.
"Maybe we'll scrape them off later," He stated. "Why do you call them seams?"
I shook my head, hugging him. He hugged back as I rested my head on his chest. He got used to me not answering that question. Mum used to call them seams when she first saw them, to make me feel better, since saying "cuts" made me feel awkward.
"Our hearts still beat the same," I told him. He hummed in agreement. I hope he wouldn't leave me, ever, or we may both get more seams, and our hearts would stop beating permanently.
"Yeah? What did you see?" He asked. We were in my room in the attic. It was the only place I felt truly safe in my house.
"You stitching up your seams because you broke your promise to me," I stated. He shifted a bit.
"I'm not angry, darling. Just call me next time," I shrugged, pulling back his sleeves, revealing seams that were scabbed over. I felt him nod against my back, then kiss the back of my neck.
Oli answered his phone when it rang. "Hi Vegan.... With Matt.... Really..?" He sounded disappointed with something. "That's the seventh record company. Thanks for letting me know. Bye." He hung up the phone.
"What happened?" I asked.
"That company called back and said we're not enough for their standards," He said sadly.
"Someone will like us," I encouraged, but he just sighed.
"I think I'm gonna go, sleep or something..." He mumbled, and stood up. I kissed his hand, looking up at him.
"I love you, love."
"I love you too, Matt," He whispered, then kissed my head. He left, and I heard a bang as he closed the door, even though it was soft. I think it was his passion leaving, breaking.
I saw Oli the next morning coming up on the porch. He looked shocked.
"Matt? Why are you out here? Is that beer?" I nodded to his question, taking another sip. Liquid courage. It let me go outside; it let me confront my fears.
"Oli, I think you need to leave here. We're still dating, but just leave here." My voice was slurred, I could feel it, but I still had my thoughts.
"Why?"
"The ghosts, Oli. They're in the walls and they'll get into your head by your ears," I informed him. I didn't want that for him. That's what happened to mum, and that's what happened to me. Mum's in a mental hospital, and once when Oli got angry at me, he said I was close to being in one. Oli couldn't end up like us.
"That's a risk I'll take, Matty, for you." He came up the stairs and kissed my head, pulling the beer from my hand. I let him; I was done.
"For me?" I questioned. Nobody did anything for me.
"Yes, for you. I love you too much, and if having a ghost in my head is the price for staying inside as long as you need, I think it's worth it," He explained, sitting in the other chair and holding my hand. I stayed quiet for a few minutes, and so did he.
"I saw you in my dreams again," I broke the silence. I slowly ran my fingers over his wrists.
"I'm sorry. It was too much, and Tom wasn't home, and I was worried, and-"
"Oli, stop. The same thing as last night. I'm not angry, I just wish you would call me," I shrugged, then realisation came over me. "I don't have a phone, do I?" All the times I remembered, it would be a letter that I got from Oli from the mail.
"No, Matt, you don't," He mumbled.
"Well, I'll get one. Just for you," I smiled, loving how the words slipped off my tongue. He smiled too, nodding.
"Do you think I'll get better?" I asked him.
"I don't know, baby, but it's okay if you don't."
"I want you to be sleeping off all the pain, then you hear me under the street lights, whispering your name," I pondered. He didn't question it. I think he learned to stop if it just sounded random.
"It's raining!" I gasped happily, as it started to pour. I got off the porch, standing in the rain. It was evening, and the sun was setting. The outside light came on.
"You're gonna get sick," He sighed, but joined me anyway. As it got dark, I sat on the cement, letting the rain soak through my clothes. He sat next to me. The light shone on us, from the moon and the outside light. I took his wrists into my hands, sliding his sleeves up.
"Even with your seams stitched tightly, you know they'll still scar," I told him. "But we can scrape them off each other. They'll wash in the rain, and run into the river, and who cares where they are then? The river can't complain," I suggested.
"Maybe we'll scrape them off later," He stated. "Why do you call them seams?"
I shook my head, hugging him. He hugged back as I rested my head on his chest. He got used to me not answering that question. Mum used to call them seams when she first saw them, to make me feel better, since saying "cuts" made me feel awkward.
"Our hearts still beat the same," I told him. He hummed in agreement. I hope he wouldn't leave me, ever, or we may both get more seams, and our hearts would stop beating permanently.