Day old blues
"Is she in love with you?" David asks, raising his eyebrows rapidly, leaning over the counter towards Matt.
"Ha!' Matt scoffs in reply, grabbing another couple of beers out of the fridge.
The flat is messy, and beer boxes litter the ground. Matt however, had scrubbed up well, for someone only going out on the town for the night.
"Come on, Matt!" David replies, taking a beer out of Matt's hand and heading to the couch, flicking on the Union game, "She talks to you all the fucking time! She's giggling every bloody minute she's around here!"
David collapses on the couch half drunk, laughing, and Matt falls down beside him.
"David, she's twenty fucking one," Matt rolls his eyes and he cracks open his beer, "She doesn't know what love is."
***
"Rachael, is everything okay?" Georgie peers at Rachael as she enters the kitchen, draped in shawls- not an uncommon sight in a flat that's colder inside than out.
Rachael shakes her head and laughs a strange laugh, "Yeah, Just Matt being a dick. It's fine."
"Okay..." Georgie begins, stirring a hot chocolate. Rachael's gone crazy the past year.
No, that's not true.
They've all gone crazy this past year.
But Rachael is the one who usually keeps her cool, keeps her head. Georgie is usually the one going to Rachael for advice.
But the past few months, Rachael's been yelling in her room, or spray painting so much that she drags her mattress out to the lounge to escape the fumes, and more than once Georgie has come home to Rachael on the lounge floor in the middle of the day, whiskey to her left, blankets over her shoulders and legs up the wall while she sings to whatever song she has on repeat that day.
"Is everything... Are you... What's going on with you and Matt?"
Rachael looks up at Georgie quickly from the cupboard she's been fossicking through and blinks several times before turning back to face the cupboard again.
"No, nothing, he's just being a dick," she laughs strangely again.
"Okay. It's just that- you don't think he..." Georgie trails off and leans against the door frame, looking down at Rachael.
Rachael's head snaps around to look at Georgie again as she stands up. "Georgie. He doesn't like me. We're just friends."
Georgie takes a deep breath in and swallows before continuing. Everyone's been crazy this year. Even Rachael.
"Okay, Rachael. I just... I don't want you to freak out about it."
"What?" Rachael asks, standing up, peanut butter in hand. "Freak out? What do you mean?"
Georgie breathes in carefully again before continuing, "You know.. I mean, if he's in love with you..."
Rachael laughs loudly and forcefully now.
"Georgie," she spits the words, anger in her voice now, "He doesn't know what love is."
***
Matt and Rachael fall in through the doorway together.
Rachael laughs and leans against Matt's body, pushing him against the doorway. He bows his head and laughs into her hair, the odour of whiskey leaving his mouth as he does.
She smiles and grabs his hand, dragging him to the couch where they collapse in a heap, Rachael's head on his chest.
"Rachael," Matt begins, smiling as he gently kisses her cheek.
"Mmm?" she replies, giggling as her mouth finds his, as it always does when no one else is around.
Matt savours the touch of her lips, the feel of her skin, the curve of her waist against his hand.
It briefly occurs to him that Rachael is his favourite place to be.
"Do you love me?" he asks, trying not to laugh.
Rachael laughs in reply and kisses him again. Firm kisses, purposeful kisses, lips locking.
He laughs in return while he caresses her cheek.
"Do you like me?" he persists, stroking her hair.
"Of course I do," she murmurs, kissing his neck.
She draws away briefly now and looks up in Matt's eyes.
"Don't screw with my head." she tells him, brow beginning to furrow, intoxicated eyes struggling to stay focused on his own.
"I'm not," he lied as he planted a kiss firmly on her soft lips.
***
"Rachael," Matt begins, cooking breakfast for the two of them. Rachael has been staying for a while now since her flat fell apart.
"Just until she finds her feet," he routinely tells David.
"Fuck off," always comes David's reply, "I know you're hitting that, and if you're not, I will!"
"Mmm?" she replies, busying herself cleaning the kitchen, humming a tune the way she does whenever she floats around.
Matt stops for a second, lifting the fish slice out of the frying pan and turning around to face her. She's wearing only her underwear and a crop top with her favourite band emblazoned across the front.
"Do you love me?" he asks, unable to hide the smirk spreading across his face.
Rachael shoots an uncomfortable look at him, one eyebrow raised.
"No, Matt!" she assures, heading to collapse on the couch where they routinely find themselves entangled at night, and avoiding eye contact once more.
"Alright, alright," he laughs, turning back to the eggs.
"Ha!' Matt scoffs in reply, grabbing another couple of beers out of the fridge.
The flat is messy, and beer boxes litter the ground. Matt however, had scrubbed up well, for someone only going out on the town for the night.
"Come on, Matt!" David replies, taking a beer out of Matt's hand and heading to the couch, flicking on the Union game, "She talks to you all the fucking time! She's giggling every bloody minute she's around here!"
David collapses on the couch half drunk, laughing, and Matt falls down beside him.
"David, she's twenty fucking one," Matt rolls his eyes and he cracks open his beer, "She doesn't know what love is."
***
"Rachael, is everything okay?" Georgie peers at Rachael as she enters the kitchen, draped in shawls- not an uncommon sight in a flat that's colder inside than out.
Rachael shakes her head and laughs a strange laugh, "Yeah, Just Matt being a dick. It's fine."
"Okay..." Georgie begins, stirring a hot chocolate. Rachael's gone crazy the past year.
No, that's not true.
They've all gone crazy this past year.
But Rachael is the one who usually keeps her cool, keeps her head. Georgie is usually the one going to Rachael for advice.
But the past few months, Rachael's been yelling in her room, or spray painting so much that she drags her mattress out to the lounge to escape the fumes, and more than once Georgie has come home to Rachael on the lounge floor in the middle of the day, whiskey to her left, blankets over her shoulders and legs up the wall while she sings to whatever song she has on repeat that day.
"Is everything... Are you... What's going on with you and Matt?"
Rachael looks up at Georgie quickly from the cupboard she's been fossicking through and blinks several times before turning back to face the cupboard again.
"No, nothing, he's just being a dick," she laughs strangely again.
"Okay. It's just that- you don't think he..." Georgie trails off and leans against the door frame, looking down at Rachael.
Rachael's head snaps around to look at Georgie again as she stands up. "Georgie. He doesn't like me. We're just friends."
Georgie takes a deep breath in and swallows before continuing. Everyone's been crazy this year. Even Rachael.
"Okay, Rachael. I just... I don't want you to freak out about it."
"What?" Rachael asks, standing up, peanut butter in hand. "Freak out? What do you mean?"
Georgie breathes in carefully again before continuing, "You know.. I mean, if he's in love with you..."
Rachael laughs loudly and forcefully now.
"Georgie," she spits the words, anger in her voice now, "He doesn't know what love is."
***
Matt and Rachael fall in through the doorway together.
Rachael laughs and leans against Matt's body, pushing him against the doorway. He bows his head and laughs into her hair, the odour of whiskey leaving his mouth as he does.
She smiles and grabs his hand, dragging him to the couch where they collapse in a heap, Rachael's head on his chest.
"Rachael," Matt begins, smiling as he gently kisses her cheek.
"Mmm?" she replies, giggling as her mouth finds his, as it always does when no one else is around.
Matt savours the touch of her lips, the feel of her skin, the curve of her waist against his hand.
It briefly occurs to him that Rachael is his favourite place to be.
"Do you love me?" he asks, trying not to laugh.
Rachael laughs in reply and kisses him again. Firm kisses, purposeful kisses, lips locking.
He laughs in return while he caresses her cheek.
"Do you like me?" he persists, stroking her hair.
"Of course I do," she murmurs, kissing his neck.
She draws away briefly now and looks up in Matt's eyes.
"Don't screw with my head." she tells him, brow beginning to furrow, intoxicated eyes struggling to stay focused on his own.
"I'm not," he lied as he planted a kiss firmly on her soft lips.
***
"Rachael," Matt begins, cooking breakfast for the two of them. Rachael has been staying for a while now since her flat fell apart.
"Just until she finds her feet," he routinely tells David.
"Fuck off," always comes David's reply, "I know you're hitting that, and if you're not, I will!"
"Mmm?" she replies, busying herself cleaning the kitchen, humming a tune the way she does whenever she floats around.
Matt stops for a second, lifting the fish slice out of the frying pan and turning around to face her. She's wearing only her underwear and a crop top with her favourite band emblazoned across the front.
"Do you love me?" he asks, unable to hide the smirk spreading across his face.
Rachael shoots an uncomfortable look at him, one eyebrow raised.
"No, Matt!" she assures, heading to collapse on the couch where they routinely find themselves entangled at night, and avoiding eye contact once more.
"Alright, alright," he laughs, turning back to the eggs.
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