@cthlicdevil hit that 💕
Matt didn’t bother to worry about the curtains in his home for obvious reasons. John wasn’t upset when the morning sunlight hit him in the face like a scornful slap, but by no means did he like it. He groaned, buried his face in a pillow, and felt mortified. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten so drunk that he’d been out before midnight. Blame the nightmares that he’d been trying to blot out, but it wasn’t as though they were ever truly horror show symbolism. The worst were memories, caught in a loop with no way out.
Nonetheless, he should have left to be self-destructive on his own, not drag Matt into it.
He rolled out of bed, pulled on his trousers, inhaled through his nose, and wasn’t sure what to expect. John certainly wouldn’t blame Matt if he were put out. It had hardly been any kind of an end for an evening that should have been romantic. He heard movement in the other room and went to join him.












