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Summary
The first night I met him, I should’ve known better. I shouldn't have let him anywhere near me.
But I did. Every single time.
The second he looked at me, something inside me just… snapped.
It wasn’t sensible or romantic or even remotely safe, it was instinct. Primal. Like my body decided it wanted him long before my brain had a chance to protest.
And every time he proved exactly why I should walk away, that pull only got stronger, dragging me back to him like gravity with teeth.
This isn’t a love story.
This is how Matty Healy ruined my fucking life.
