The warm hand wrapped around your back, dragging you closer, his blunt, black painted nails scratched against your neck gently. “No, no tell me—don’t do that—tell me what you want to do.” He rested his forehead against yours with a soft sigh, his nose against yours.

You’re his muse. You deserve some time in the spotlight, why won’t you take it. There’s five minutes on the clock until you’re supposed to be introduced on the stage and now you don’t want to do it. He had asked, begged, ~~behind closed doors of course~~ for you to let him tell the world that you were his lover. His one and only.

“You don’t want to do it anymore—why? Why..” A slight groan left him, head moving to press into your neck momentarily. His curls tickled at the exposed base of your neck.

He wanted to show all his fans that you were his lover, he wanted to share that with them, just a little. I mean you’ve been the muse for a lot of his songs this album—and you’ve even help write a few songs too! He wants you to get the credit and attention and love he knows you deserve. So why the hell did you have to be so fucking difficult about it?

But, it’s not that easy is it? Large crowds were not comforting. Terribly loud music, ~~no matter how fantastic it is~~, busting your eardrums is not comforting. Seeing all the fans that love Matty in the stands, ones that could hate you if you made a wrong move….It’s a very big decision to announce your relationship to the public.

His head raised from your neck and pressed a firm kiss to your cheek to try and hide his growing annoyance. “Just…do whatever you want then.” He couldn’t help how bitchy the words sounded when they came out. And, let’s be honest, everyone who is outside of the huge ring of 1975 fans practically despises Matty. You don’t know if you could handle hate like that.