M. Whitlock-Holmes;ย Most Likely to Say โIโve Got Thisโ (and mean itโฆ mostly)
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have you seen ( Matthew "Matt" Whitlock-Holmes, he/him )? They look a lot like ( Oliver Stark ). The ( 32 ) year old ( firefighter, assists at the funeral home when needed ) is so ( courageous, protective, deeply loyal ) but I heard they can also be really ( reckless, impulsive, womanizer ). Can you believe theyโve been in town for ( 32 years )?! They live in the ( the stacks ) neighbourhood and kind of remind me of ( Sunburnt California Hero, Reckless Saviour Complex, Golden Retriever Energy ). If I was asked, Iโd guess that they were ( Most Likely to Say โIโve Got Thisโ (and mean itโฆ mostly) ) in their yearbook for the class of ( 2012 ).
follows come from huntrcssqueen
full name :ย Matthew Leon Whitlock-Holmes
nickname(s) :ย Matt, Mattie
date of birth :ย June 27
parentage:ย Andrew Whitlock-Holmes (father), Colleen Whitlock-Holmes (mother)
siblings:ย 5 brothers; oldest brother, Maverick, West, Wyatt & Mickey
significant other:ย single
gender identity :ย cis male ( he/him )
romantic orientation :ย panromantic
sexual orientation :ย pansexual
occupation :ย firefighter
BIOGRAPHY: (highlights)
born and raised in town, knows every street like the back of his hand (and every bad decision spot too)
grew up in a funeral home โ learned how to sit with death before he ever learned how to deal with his own emotions
one of six brothers โ loud house, louder fights, unbreakable loyalty
became a firefighter to not become his familyโฆ and somehow still orbiting it anyway
has a reputation for running into danger before anyone can tell him not to
died for 3 minutes during a thunderstorm call โ struck unconscious on scene, no pulse, came back anyway after that, he doesnโt talk about death the same way
the kind of guy who says โIโve got thisโ even when he very much does not
reckless streak a mile wide โ trusts instinct over protocol more often than he should
helps out at the family funeral home when needed โ upstairs and down
first love was Emily โ dated two years, ruined it by cheating, never properly owned up to it
charming enough to get away with things he probably shouldnโt
hates thunderstorms now, even if he wonโt admit it
the guy people call in an emergencyโฆ even when he is the emergency
BIOGRAPHY: (full)
Matthew Whitlock-Holmes has spent his entire life learning how to run toward dangerโsometimes for the right reasons, sometimes just because he doesnโt know how to stand still. Born on June 27 and raised in the Whitlock-Holmes family funeral home, Matt grew up surrounded by grief, ritual, and the quiet understanding that life is fragile. As one of six boys he learned early how to be loud just to be heard, and tough just to be seen. The brothers fought like it was a second language, all sharp elbows and biting words, but loyalty ran deeper than anything else. No matter how hard they pushed each other, they always closed ranks when it mattered.
Their parents, Andrew and Colleen Whitlock-Holmes, built more than just a businessโthey built a reputation. The funeral home was only one face of it. Matt grew up knowing there were other layers, things that werenโt talked about in daylight. A crime family, whether anyone said it outright or not. He understood it young, even if he didnโt fully grasp the weight of it until later. Where his brother leaned into it in different ways, Matt chose something elseโsomething cleaner, something that felt like it could balance the scales. Becoming a firefighter wasnโt just a career choice. It was a line he drew in the sand.
At 32, Matt has built a reputation in town as someone who shows up when things go badโand doesnโt hesitate. Courage comes naturally to him, almost instinctively. Heโs the kind of man who will charge into a burning building without waiting for backup, convinced he can handle whateverโs on the other side. Most of the time, he can. Thatโs the problem. It reinforces the belief that he always can even if he can't. Because beneath the heroics is something more dangerous: impulsiveness wrapped in confidence. Matt doesnโt always think things through. He trusts his gut over reason, his heart over caution, and his need to fix things over whether theyโre his to fix in the first place. It makes him good at what he doesโbut it also makes him reckless.
That recklessness has followed him into his personal life. In high school, he dated Emily for two yearsโthe kind of relationship people assumed would last. It didnโt. Matt cheated on her with Aspen, a mistake heโs never fully owned. Heโll say he was manipulated, that things werenโt as simple as they looked, and maybe thereโs some truth buried in that. But the reality is, he never gave Emily the apology she deserved. Itโs one of the few things that lingers in the back of his mind, even if he refuses to sit with it for too long.
Since then, Matt has earned a reputationโcharming, easygoing, and rarely tied down. He moves through relationships the same way he moves through emergencies: fast, intense, and often without thinking about the aftermath. Itโs easier that way. Easier than staying, easier than being known too deeply. Still, thereโs a softness to him that people donโt always expect. A golden-retriever kind of warmth, buried under the bravado. He jokes easily, smiles often, and carries a kind of sunburnt, California-hero energy that draws people in whether he means it to or not. He wants to be someone people can rely on. Needs to be, maybe. And when it comes to his family, that loyalty becomes absolute.
Even now, Matt walks a careful line between the life heโs chosen and the one he was born into. He keeps his distance from the familyโs more dangerous dealings, holding tight to the belief that he can stay separate from it. But blood has a way of pulling people back in. If Andrew calls, or if Mickey needs help, Matt shows up. He tells himself itโs just this once. Just helping. Just keeping things under control. โIโve got this,โ heโll say. And most of the time, he believes it.
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"Pffffffffft." Despite the playfully long sound, she meant that sentiment, but she suspected Matty would choose to miss that, if he didn't just normally. The first time she'd heard the term Himbo, she'd realized it had perfectly fit him, and she'd spent maybe an entire year calling him that. To this day, it was still her favourite way to think of him in her head. But he was her Himbo and truth be told she adored him. They were life long friends for a reason after all. "Do you remember..." Voice getting a little far away as she went back her memories, gaze turning inward as she went back to the moment in question. "When Arnie Warhol was bullying you your first year of middle school, and I beat him up before your brothers even got to him? Whatever happened to that guy?"
Matt barked out a laugh so sudden he nearly dropped the tongs, shoulders shaking as he looked over at her with a look somewhere between disbelief and fondness. โ Oh, God, Arnie Warhol. I haven't heard that name in... what? Fifteen years? โ He snorted, dragging the tongs through the hot dogs before glancing back at her, a crooked grin spreading across his face. โ I remember hiding behind that stupid bike rack while he kept stealing my backpack, thinking maybe if I ignored him he'd get bored. Then here comes this little menaceโโ he pointed the tongs at her for emphasis, โ โmarching over there without a second thought and absolutely clocking him. You were, what, all of four-foot-nothing? And somehow he still hit the ground. โ His laughter softened into something warmer, quieter. The memory simmered in the air remembering the two, or more three of them one day.
His smile lingered as he leaned back against the grill, blue eyes settling on her with an affection that had only grown over the years. โ Last I heard he moved a couple towns over after high school. Haven't seen him since. Probably figured it was safer that way away from you. โ He smirked over in her direction, turning getting the hot dogs on a warmer. โ I still remember senior year, when we skipped last period because you said one history lecture wouldn't kill us. We drove what... thirty or forty minutes just for those stupid milkshakes. โ
Ash paused to look up to Matt, with a twisted look of amusement, "I don't know if I should be more reassured or more concerned by the fact that people wanna duct tape you to a chair." If Birch is at the top of the list, maybe it's a kinky thing, he wouldn't know. Still it made Ash chuckle. "Yeah you did, didn't tell us shit and the bam, girlfriend, tell me everything," it was nice to see Matt in love for once, perhaps seeing him tied down is a new look but certainly a welcomed one for his friend. Ashton quietly listened with a grin on his face, testing out the sticks diligently while interested in how this happened. It was always nice to hear stories about love, as long as it wasn't him having to embarrassingly recount his. "Aw she was staying with you?" He softened his words, thinking that was really sweet, "I think Matty in love is a great look on you," Ash teased, poking the kid stick to Matt's chest before gently sliding it to the good stick pile.
He cheekiness levelled out, hearing the way the infant relationship had already gone though so much, "all the more you should cherish it and really talk about it, and not take it for granted." Sometimes it could feel like an obligation to keep doing it, it was always better to communicate things honestly. Ash waved off the attempt to turn the attention to him though, "bahh, nothing much," he quickly picked up the next stick to test out, "just been prepping summer camp for July, went to Tennessee with March for a week, visited his other side of the family.. other than that? Just.. really laying low, y'know? After the whole blow up outing with me." Ashton absolutely did not need more attention on him. Especially over the summer when hockey fans have literally nothing to do.
Matt let out a laugh that echoed through the nearly empty rink, shaking his head so hard a few damp strands of hair fell into his face. โ Whoa, whoaโhold on there. I never said love yet. โ He pointed the blade of the stick toward Ash before resting it across his shoulders, his grin crooked but a little more uncertain now. The stretch felt good but it also did seethe hot, up through his ribs โ I mean... it's only been, what, two months? Really only about a month of her actually being my girlfriend. โ The words lingered in the cold air, thinking about it. His smile faltered just enough for him to notice it. Maybe. The thought crept in before he could shove it away. Birch had been there through everythingโthe hospital bed, helping him button shirts when his shoulder refused to cooperate, sitting awake through nights he'd jolted out of nightmares drenched in sweat or unable to sleep through the pain. She'd seen him at his weakest and never once made him feel like he was too much. His thumb absentmindedly traced the tape wrapped around the handle of the stick as he huffed out another quiet laugh. โ I don't know... maybe. โ He scratched at the back of his neck, cheeks warming despite the chill of the rink. โ Damn, now you've got me thinking about it. โ
He bumped Ash lightly with his shoulder before reaching into the rack for another stick, giving it a couple experimental flexes more out of habit than concentration. His thoughts had already wandered somewhere elseโback to Birch, to the apartment that somehow had become their apartment without either of them ever having a conversation about it. It hadn't been planned. She'd simply stayed... and he'd never wanted her to leave. The realization settled somewhere deep in his chest, quieter than panic but heavier than he'd expected. โ Ahh well that's something! How was the trip there? โ His eyes drifted back to Ash, the smile returning, softer this time. โ Glad you're laying low with all the bullshit that gets thrown out to the media that isn't their damn business. After everything that happened... you good with it now? Like... actually good? Or are you just telling everyone you're fine so they'll quit asking? โ
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He couldn't even touch her and honestly, she wasn't entirely sure what to make of it, and wasn't even sure if she had the energy in her to try. Instead, she just reached across from where he'd set the lighter and used it to light a cigarette, wincing through the first inhale and exhale both but then just sinking into her pillows as she let the cherry burn down the stick a little. "Yeah. Can't. Hear you loud and clear, FireDog." Lifting the hand that held her cigarette, she used it to salute him before risking the discomfort of taking another drag.
"Oh, yeah, thanks for that advice I hadn't already thought of." Words that would usually be spoken scathingly were just mumbled tiredly, hardly able to look at him until he told her how much she mattered. "Yeah, well... not enough to not throw away thirty years over six months, but go off, I guess." Lifting a hand, she wiped at her eyes with the back of it and then her palm, looking at him like he was ridiculous or something. "Well go then! Fucking get the hell out of here, Matty, before I fuck you over again. I don't think I can survive another beating in front of your grandmother, okay? Go!" Yelping a little in the pain that came with her flinging her arms to shoo him away, the blanket fell to reveal the extent of the bruising for just a second before she pulled it back up with her slump into her pillows. Refusing to look at him anymore, head turned to her window, she puffed hard on her cigarette with stifled winces confined to twitches between her brows.
Matt's hand stayed wrapped around the doorknob, his knuckles whitening until they ached. Every instinct in him screamed to turn around, to cross the room in three strides, rip the cigarette from between her fingers, pull her into his arms, and promise he'd fix every damn thing that had ever hurt her, even just take her face and kiss her. Instead, he stood frozen, nails digging into his palms inside his pockets, swallowing around the lump lodged so deep in his throat it burned. The sight of the bruises beneath the slipping blanket hit him like a punch to the ribs, dragging him right back to the image of her crumpling in front of his Mamaw and Sada while he'd stood there feeling completely useless. He hated himself for leaving. He hated himself more for knowing that staying would only make everything worseโfor Birch, for Naomi, for whatever was left of the fragile line he'd been trying so desperately not to cross.
โ It was never about you not being enough. โ His voice barely rose above a whisper, rough with everything he was forcing back. โ That's the problem. โ He closed his eyes for a second, exhaling shakily before pulling the door open. He couldn't trust himself to look at her again. If he did, he knew he wouldn't leave. โ Please take care... I am sorry. โ
"Yeah, she's pretty scary." That was for sure, even Naomi couldn't deny that, even if she did hold big respect for the woman. If she ever made it to old ladyhood, that was the kind of old lady she wanted to be. Like Susan and Sada. Powerful. His refusal of the money only made her scoff, but the sharp movement of it in her chest brought the hardest of flinches yet, a sharp sucking of air through her teeth accompanying her reach for her cigarettes on the side table. Movements slow and laboured. "You never even warned me, Matty. I knew your family was in with Sada, I didn't realize how in." Swallowing hard, she flicked the lighter to light the cigarette she slid between her lips, but it slid from her hand and clattered across the carpet, well out of reach and for a brief moment it looked like that obstacle alone would break her resolve from the frustration alone.
In the end she held herself together enough to just sigh a flinching sigh of resignation, "What do you want, Matty? You've seen I'm alive, and now you'll leave and we'll never talk again. Every bit of this is my fault, you don't need to be here to rub it in." Fuck him and the concern in his eyes that swelled that lump at the base of her throat and had her eyes suspiciously prickling with tears she absolutely refused to let fall. Naomi Katz never cried. Goddamn it, she was too sore for this bullshit. "It's not going to change anything, so what does it matter? Go home to your happily ever after Matthew. I'll leave you alone."
Matt watched the lighter bounce across the floor before he quietly bent to pick it up. He rolled it once between his fingers, then stepped close enough to set it gently on the nightstand instead of putting it in her hand. His mouth opened once, then closed again. For a long moment, all he could do was look at her.
โ I wanted to warn you, tried, mind you.. not hard enough. I can't message you anymore. I don't want people knowing how in my family is with Sada. I don't talk about that shit. โ he said softly, almost laughing at himself, though there wasn't any humor in it. โ Like I can just stop caring because life's... complicated. โ His jaw flexed as he shoved his hands into his pockets, keeping them there afraid that he would reach out for her. โ Just.. please take it easy and actually rest, don't overdo moving around, ask Evie for help. โ He lingered another beat before giving the smallest nod toward the door. โ You always mattered to me. โ He whispered heading back towards the door, don't kiss her.. don't do it. He kept reminding himself because he couldn't see the twist in Birch's face with her heart in pain. He alway did that with Emily once and it was his biggest regret.
Hair matted, make up still a mess across her face from having not been washed between beating and sleeping, the look he wore on his though enough to have her clearing away a little of the thickness in her throat, though that brought a sharp wince from her. One she was sure he was still fresh in his own memory. "Thanks, I'm beautiful." But there was bitterness behind her voice as she stared at him.
"Enough." He knew. He knew and he hadn't thought to warn her when she'd told him that it was her. That he'd told someone and that had lead to this? "Did you tell on me, Matty?" As if this could be his fault at all. She did her best to shift so she could sit up a little more, but that brought a loud cry past her lips as she fell back onto the pillow resigned to her positioning, a hint of black and blue peaking out beneath the slid down top of the blanket and the bottom of her bra. "I'll live. There's money in my bag for your truck." Eyes dropping she couldn't even look at him through her pain laboured breathing. "Got what you wanted?"
Matt's expression crumpled the second she asked the question. It wasn't anger that flashed across his faceโit was guilt, raw and ugly. He scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck, shaking his head almost violently. โ It wasn't like I planned to. โ His voice came out rougher than he intended. โ I mean you know my Mamaw... She found out my truck was keyed and she won't stop until she knows the who. โ He swallowed hard, eyes falling to the bruises peeking from beneath her blanket before forcing himself to look back at her. He knew the pain, just went through that pain weeks ago, the colour had finally disappeared, basically all healed.
His eyes flicked toward the bag before settling back on her, something pained hardening in his jaw. โ Keep the money. I can pay for it myself. I didn't come here for that, and I sure as hell didn't come to collect some payment. โ He took one hesitant step closer despite himself, stopping again like he was afraid he'd only make things worse. โ I never wanted any of this. โ
"Look at him!" The squeal she gave off was one of pure joy at the sight of the cute little pig that trotted to the door of the balcony but decided not to come outside, more than happy to receive Harmony's attention from where he was. "This ain't the famous Wilbur I been hearing 'bout? Well he can give me as little nip any day, it'd be our secret." And somehow the pig being the piece that put the puzzle together and she realized that Matt's Birch was the BBQ Birch and the pig lady Birch. As if there would be three women in town with that name, but she also hadn't thought too hard about it either. "I'm really happy for you, Matty. And it looks like she's been able to keep you off your feet, that's impressive in itself." She joked with a little shove to him as she pulled out a couple of the beers and handed one over to him. "You got a nice view out here."
Matt caught the beer with a grin, popping the cap against the railing out of habit before taking a sip. โ Careful, Wilbur will hold you to that secret. Little guy's gettin' an ego now. Might be my fault. โ He chuckled, glancing back through the open door at the pig before his smile softened at the mention of Birch. โ She's pretty damn amazing. U'm the lucky one to have her. โ He leaned his forearms on the railing beside her, hand still on his ribs every so often, getting use to working with the straight, looking out over the view. โ I like to think it's the best one in the city, now hand over that beer. โ
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Naomi let her eyes slide over him as he lifted his shirt, giving her lower lip a little bite of appreciation. She'd always appreciated his physique but Matty a had never been a target, too sweet for that kind of stuff. After Emily he'd been a playboy, having his cake and eating it too, just like her. Now, it of nowhere, without even considering get he's gone and got himself all settled. Fucking asshole. It wouldn't last anyway, not with her as temptation. "Yeah right, like you'd ever even want to put out this fire." Striking a pose of her own she gave him a chance to drink her in himself. To see what he was missing. "Why can't you just leave this stuff alone and come play with me?" The play on words purposeful.
Matt caught the look, and for just a heartbeat his grin faltered before he let out a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck, shaking his head to look away from her little pose. โ Don't tempt me, I just might. โ he teased, blue eyes warm but unwavering as he pointed the tongs back toward the grill instead of taking the bait. โ Hate to disappoint you, Trouble, but I'm here until Birch comes back. โ He flashed her an easy smile, deliberately lightening the moment. โ Afterwards I can play with you. โ Hinting about the volleyball
She truly had a hard time imagining Matthew in the way that other people tried to talk about him. He was sweet, funny, kind, protective. None of the warnings made sense really, because he'd done nothing but be honest with her. He never felt closed off, and she couldn't help but feel like the Matthew that was hers was the real Matthew. She'd really grown to love watching him puff up with pride and a new sort of self confidence when he'd catch her looking, or when he'd smile down at her with the weight of his muscular arms on her shoulders. He truly made her feel like a prize, and that other woman was suddenly and completely forgotten. He loved her.
Color filled her cheeks as he so tenderly took get hands, determined to reassure her that it was okay to appreciate what she had out loud, that speaking it to the universe wouldn't convince the universe to take it back. A happy little misting coming across her eyes, Birch blinked back the threat of her touched, happy, tears, and lifted onto her toes to press the softest of kisses just beneath his ear at the corner of his jaw. "Say it one more time." She'd never get tired of hearing it, that he loved her.
Matt's breath caught the second her lips brushed beneath his ear, a slow smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as his eyes slipped shut for just a heartbeat. She always managed to undo him in the quietest ways. His thumbs traced absent circles over the backs of her hands before one let go, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear as he looked at her like she was something precious.
A soft chuckle escaped him, forehead coming to rest against hers. โ I. Love. You. โ Nothing more. No joke to hide behind, no grand speech, just three words spoken with quiet certainty, carrying every promise he hadn't learned how to put into words yet.
His exuberance only amplified her own, the pair alight with mutual joy at the warm importance of the moment. How every detail now was written into the story of them, Ann important chapter in the careful journey of their relationship so far. Absolutely every part of it was committed to memory, to be cherished and returned to, and marveled over just how perfect it really was for a small town girl like her. A secret spot, a beautiful view of a sleepy town, and a truck bed filled with blankets and twinkling lights, all under the glow of a full moon. A living dream.
"Your girlfriend." Tasting the words on her lips she decided she quite liked the taste of them, though it was the way he looked at her that could become entirely too addictive. He looked at her like she glowed. Brush of his thumb across the blush warmed apple of hey check set lashes to fluttering, head nodding against the palm of his hand as he held her there like something so precious. "So do I."
"Dancin'?" Brows furrowing in confused surprise as he lead her off the bed of the truck, Wilbur only lifting his head for a moment in groggy curiosity before tucking himself away again. Soon, they were swaying there lit by battery operated string lights, Carroll's glow, and the round watching face of the moon above them. He'd promised her this...
"A kids beneath the stars..." Sighed onto his lips as she melted with realization. "So the moon can see how happy we are." He sat truly a one of a kind man.
Matt's smile softened into something quieter, deeper, the teasing fading as he looked at her like she'd just handed him the whole world. His forehead brushed hers again, swaying them gently while the music crackled through his phone. โ Yeah,โ he murmured, voice barely louder than the breeze weaving through the trees. โ I promised you we'd dance beneath the stars... and I ain't never gonna be the kind of man that breaks a promise to you. โ His hand squeezed hers before lifting it, turning her slowly beneath the starry night with a grin that returned the second she laughed. When she settled back against him, he rested his chin lightly atop her head, eyes drifting up to the full moon hanging over Carroll.
He leaned in, stealing another kiss, brief and impossibly tender, before chuckling against her lips. It was the perfect night. He had her in his arms, got to be the one to call her his girlfriend and the reason that she had a smile on her lips. The rest of the evening was just icing on the cake now.
If it was at all possible, Naomi somehow felt worse that morning than she had the night before, even dulled by the pills that she'd gotten Evie to grab for her, and the pack of ice that rested gently on top of her stomach with a towel keeping it from being directly on her skin. Thankful, truthfully, to have Evie there because she was more than useless. She was even putting off going to the bathroom because she knew getting out of bed would be a painful struggle.
Hearing the front door open and Evie speaking, and then a voice she knew just from timbre and tone alone was Matty. Fucking great. Grumbling after even just her deep sigh had come out hitched with a sharp, breath stealing, twinge of pain, she didn't even care to make herself look presentable. Though she did pull the blanket up over her stomach and the ice on top of it.
The moment she heard a little knock on her door, she gave a little croak of 'come in'. It was kind of fucked up that even after all this, she still wanted to see him.
A quick talk to Evie, asking her if he could come inside, the confliction between them both before she had stepped out of the way to let him in. โ Thanks, โ Matt murmured, already moving down the hall, his stomach twisting tighter with every step until he reached Naomi's door. He knocked softly before easing it open at her strained invitation, his eyes finding her almost immediately. The blanket pulled a little too high, the colour partly drained from her faceโit hit him harder than he'd expected. His jaw tightened as he shut the door behind him.
โ Jesus, Nai... โ he breathed, crossing the room without thinking until he stopped a few feet from the bed. Distance, keep distance โ How bad? โ There wasn't any accusation in it, he knew what his family was capable of. His hand hovered uncertainly before settling gently against the edge of the mattress instead of reaching for her. โ I needed to make sure you were okay. โ
"Matt..." One of the rare few times she didn't call him by his first name and that was because her first sob broke through it as she fell into his embrace. It was just windows she knew, not even anything major, they'd be open within days. It was the implication. This girl that had kissed him sounded dangerous by all accounts, and maybe she was crazy enough to hire someone to do this. The idea hadn't even entered head before Grady had suggested it, and now she couldn't get it out. What if this was a threat?
Turning her face to nuzzle into his chest, breathed in the comfort of him, but the exhale she let go came with the breaking of the dam and her silly sobs spilled out as she clung back to him. Fistfuls of his shirt up in her hands as she just cried. She'd held it all in from the moment she'd first driven up and seen the windows and it all came out now that she had the supportive embrace to hold her up while she let it all out.
Matt didn't let go for a second, tightening his arms around her as her sobs finally broke free, one hand remaining at the back of her head while the other rubbed slow, steady circles against her back. He rested his cheek against the top of her head, swallowing hard as every shake of her body twisted something deep inside his chest. โ I've got you, Birch, โ he murmured, his voice low and rough, holding her like if he loosened his grip she'd shatter all over again. โ I'm not going anywhere... โ His eyes stayed fixed on the broken restaurant over her shoulder, anger simmering beneath the guilt, but none of it mattered as much as making sure she knew she wasn't facing this alone. His embrace only tightened, sheltering her from the wreckage around them as his thumb gently stroked the back of her neck.
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Sweat clinging to the back of Matt's shirt from the run that had done absolutely nothing to quiet the noise in his head. Naomi's exhausted face lingered in his mind just as stubbornly as Birch's silence. Thirty years of history wasn't something he could pretend didn't exist, not after hearing what Mamaw had told him about 'taking care of it', but every mile he'd put behind him had only left him with more questions than answers. Digging his keys from his pocket as he stepped into the apartment building, he barely looked up before colliding shoulder-first with someone coming the other way.
He stumbled back with a muttered curse, blinking before realizing it was West standing in front of him. โ Wes? โ Matt exhaled, dragging a hand through his damp hair. โ What're you doing here? โ He managed a tired half-smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, his expression giving away just how worn thin the last couple of days had left him.
Matt hadn't slept. Not well at least. Every time he'd closed his eyes, his mamaw's words had come back to him with suffocating clarity, settling in his chest like wet cement. He'd grown up knowing what his family was capable of, stories disguised as family history, half-truths wrapped in warnings, whispered lessons about loyalty and blood that never quite sounded like threats until you were old enough to understand them. He'd always known what his family was capable of.
Knowing it and seeing it reflected in someone else were two entirely different things. Naomi had lingered in his thoughts long after their conversation ended. The practiced way she'd brushed things aside as though pain wasn't something she knew how to accept. It had gnawed at him all night, each passing hour making the unease settle deeper beneath his ribs. He'd tried to convince himself she was fine. That it wasn't his place.
None of it stuck. By morning, the restlessness had won, the conversations through texts were pushing him over the edge and his feet were taking him to the stairwell. Taking two at a time, maybe taking the stairs would stop his feet from moving, it didn't. He lifted a hand and knocked against the front door, waiting to see if she would answer.
