50

                                    

                                          
A/N:
So these notes are usually at the end of the chapter but this one needed to be at the beginning.
*cough* Mature content *cough*
Enjoy ;)

༻ Rose's POV ༺
Matt came back from talking to his sister with splotchy eyes but a smile on his face. When I asked if he was okay, he told me he was better than ever before kissing me senseless. For the next few hours, we watched movies in his room, never straying very far from each other. His arms were always around me or his hand was always enveloping mine. It was comforting, having a constant physical connection to him after today.
The sun slipped below the horizon outside while we slumped against his headboard, the movie no more than background noise at this point, and talked about nothing and everything. He scrolled through funny videos of people falling over on his phone, cracking up at every single one until his eyes burned with tears. 
When the movie finished, we switched to music instead, which is how I found out he was a secret Taylor Swift fan. Not that I blamed him, I was a big fan of her music too. But when Matt started belting out every word to every song, I realised while I was a big fan, he might've been her biggest. I howled with laughter when he got so passionate during some of the songs and then giggled as he tried to pass off his love of Taylor Swift on 'being forced to listen to her because of his sisters'.
While I laughed, he pinned me on my back and made me promise not to tell the guys on the team. "What's it worth?" I asked him. And then he kissed me.
My toes curled when his tongue swiped over my lower lip. He was a seriously good kisser. "Alright, I won't tell," I conceded when he finally pulled away to allow me to breathe. He grinned down at me and the sight made me kiss him again. 
"I don't want to go home," I told him, tracing a tattoo that wove around his bicep. Vines were inked onto his skin with what looked like snakes intertwined with them. "How long have you had this?" I asked him. 
He shrugged. "A few months."
His eyes darkened when I licked my lips before I even knew I was doing it. I had the strangest desire to follow the lines of the tattoo with my tongue, but I reigned that absurd yearning back in and smiled up at him. "I like it."
He grinned. "Good. And don't go home, stay here."
I trailed my nail back down the tattoo, the one that ended just above where his bandage was. My eyes lingered there. I changed it for him not long ago, and he had spent all night assuring me that he was okay. But I couldn't help but think of the what ifs. "Rose," he called. When I lifted my gaze, his warm eyes were narrowed. "I'm fine."
"I know. I just can't stop thinking about what could've happened."
With his other hand, he grabbed the front of my shirt and tugged me towards him. "You don't need to worry about that, everything worked out okay." He kissed me again, as though he was proving that he was right there, in one piece, right in front of me. "Now, stay. I don't want you to go home either."
"I can't stay the night."
"Why not?"
I hesitated. Technically, I could. My dad wouldn't be home. I'd called my mom to tell her I was okay, knowing the news of the shooting would have reached her, and that I was going to Matt's for the evening. She confirmed he wasn't home. But staying the night seemed intimate. "Well... because..."
"Ah, good point," he teased when after a few beats, I came up blank. "Stay. I want you too."
I swallowed. I wanted that too. I didn't want to leave him. Didn't want to lie alone in my bed all night, overthinking and worrying. I wanted to be with him, in his arms, with his hand in mine. Where I felt safe. "Okay," I whispered.