Authors Note: Yay! Death Note story! I wanted to write a MattXMello story, so this is what my brain thought of. Please enjoy! Oh, and to people reading my Harvest Moon story, I'm REALLY SORRY I haven't posted, but I promise I will soon.

I know I shouldn't do it. I don't know why I do. It's wrong, yet I keep doing it, again and again.

I looked down at my scarred wrist, a new, deep gash painted over it. As I watched the blood drip to the floor, I was overcome with a feeling of guilt. I hated that feeling, and I wish it wasn't there. It never had been before.

That's because, I reminded myself, there was never anyone else it could hurt.

Mello.

I wasn't sure how the blonde would react if he found out I was cutting myself. Angry? Sad?

…Would he even care?

Of course he would care! I thought. He's my best friend! He has been for years!

Of course, now he was different. The Mello I knew back at Wammy's would have cared, but that was a long time ago. Actually, the first time I had stopped cutting was when I had met Mello, and I didn't start again until he left without a goodbye. He had made me happy.

So why didn't he now?

Because he was different.. He wasn't the same fun-loving, mischievous child I had become friends with-that I had fallen in love with.

He always tried to hide his feelings behind his tough, mafia-boss attitude. He didn't even want to admit he had to ask me for help when he practically blew himself up.

"Matt!" The shout was accompanied by a knock at the bathroom door. "Hurry up. You need to get back to monitoring the camera's." Mello.

I smiled. That was his way of showing his concern now. He had noticed I had been gone too long and came to tell me to get back to work (and to make sure I was okay).

"Okay," I told him, "I'll be there in a minute." There was a slight hesitation before I heard his footsteps headed away.

See? I told myself. He does care about you. But I didn't completely believe it.

I looked back down at my arm and noticed there was more blood than there usually was. A sinking panic came over me.

Did I cut too deep?! I wondered, frantically searching the room for something to stop the bleeding.

I grabbed a towel from the ground, thankful for Mello's laziness (he never picked up after himself) and wrapped it around my arm. I searched the cabinet to find some gauze. I washed the cut out (if it got infected I would be in big trouble) and quickly replaced the towel with the gauze, making sure it was tight. Once I was sure it was okay, I pulled my sleeve down and checked to see if my bandage would be visible. It wasn't.

Man… I thought, staring at my distraught expression in the mirror. This is a lot of work just to keep this from Mello…I need to stop.

Yeah, I already knew that though. I needed to stop before Mello found out. Because no matter how much I wondered how he would react if he discovered my secret, I would never want to see the day where he actually did.

I sighed, looking down at the now blood-stained towel. Now how do I hide that? I wondered, panic starting in again.

Calm down, Matt. Think. Suddenly an idea popped into my head. I could sneak it into the trash can when Mello wasn't looking, and hide it at the bottom.

I peeked out the bathroom door and could see Mello, sitting at the computer, sitting attentively at the screen.

He won't notice. I told myself to calm my nerves.

I rushed passed him and stuffed the towel in the bin without him ever looking up. At least I can depend on his obsession to beat Near. I thought, almost bitterly.

I casually walked back into the room, going back to work. I studied the camera's and researched Kira while Mello had no idea what had just happened.

"Matt!"

Mello's voice jerked me from my sleep so suddenly that I almost fell off the tattered couch I had passed out on while working.

Crap. I thought. He's going to yell at me for falling asleep.

My heart sank when he held up the towel from earlier (or, yesterday, should I say, seeing as how it was already daylight out) and, in a demanding voice, asked, "What is this?"

I gulped and tried to buy myself some time to think of an excuse.

"Where'd you find that?" I asked him.

"It fell out of the trash when I was empting it," He explained quickly. "Now, Matt, tell me why it has blood on it."

"I…" For some reason, my mind had gone completely blank.

"Did you get hurt?" Mello asked, a hint of concern flashing in his eyes. Seeing him like this, looking so caring, almost made me want to tell him the truth. Maybe I could. Maybe he could help-

"Why didn't you tell me?" Mello questioned, interrupting my thoughts. I panicked, thinking that I may have accidentally said my thought aloud, but felt a pang of disappointment when I realized that he had taken my silence as a 'yes' to his previous question.

"I didn't think you'd care." I answered honestly.

"Why wouldn't I?" Mello asked, giving me an incredulous look. "You're my best friend."

I smiled. He hadn't called me his best friend in a long time.

"I don't know," I mumbled, more to myself than to him. "I was stupid…"

"What?" Confusion spread across Mello's face.

I looked up at him and took a deep breath before continuing. "Mihael, there's something I need to tell you."

Mello's expression softened. He knew I was serious when I used his real name.

He sat down next to me on the couch. "Matt, what's wrong?"

I hesitated, wondering the best way to tell him, but I decided it was best to just be blunt. "Mello, I cut myself."

Mello blinked. "What?" He practically whispered. He stared back down at the once-white towel he still clutched in his hands. "That's a heck of a lot of blood…"

"It's not usually that much," I promised. "It's just, yesterday I-"

"Yesterday?" Mello interrupted, his head snapping back in my direction. "You mean when you were in the bathroom too long? When I was sitting right there?"

I was a little surprised by the rising anger in his voice. I was about to apologize when he threw the towel and the ground and jumped to his feet.

"Dang it, Mail!" He shouted. "You could have talked to me!"

"I'm sorry, Mello. I know it was stupid-"

"Stupid is an understatement, Matt! You could die! Why would you do this?!"

Now it was my turn to get mad. "Geeze, Mello, I don't know!" I yelled sarcastically. "Maybe it has something to do with the fact that my so-called 'best friend' left me without so much as a 'goodbye'!"

A hurt expression plastered itself on Mello's face. He was speechless for a few moments, and, when he finally spoke, all he could manage was, "But I'm here now."

"Yeah, after leaving me, all alone, for five years, wondering where you were and worrying about whether you were dead or not, you're finally here again!" I exclaimed. "And when you finally do call me, it's just to rescue your sorry butt! And do I even get a 'thank you'?! No!"

"I'm sorry, Mail," Mello said quietly. "Thank you. Thank you for saving me, thank you for always being there for me, and thank you for being my friend…a much better one than I have been lately."

I was a little thrown back by the sincerity of his voice. This was a rare state to see Mello in. So open and honest…I had hardly ever seen him like this.

Suddenly, he did the one thing I never thought I'd see him do.

Mello started to cry.

"Is it really my fault?" He asked, in between sobs.

I stood, silently watching him. Did he really care that much about me? And I was starting to think he had stopped caring a long time ago.

I wrapped my arms around him and he moved closer to me, grateful for the comfort. He cried into my shoulder.

"No, Mello," I told him softly. "It's not your fault. I shouldn't have said that. I had cut myself before I came to Wammy's, so you shouldn't think it's your fault. I was just confused as to why you left without taking me with you. I mean, we were always together. I thought I had done something wrong."

"It was dangerous, Mail," He told my calmly. "You didn't do anything wrong, I just didn't want you to get involved in the mafia. I didn't want a life like that for you. I only called you because they're all dead now. And I didn't say goodbye because I knew it would make it harder for me to leave," He paused to try to stifle another sob. "I didn't think you'd ever do this."

"I'm sorry." I said.

Mello pulled away from me so he could face me. His eyes were red from crying and still tainted with tears.

"How long?" He demanded.

I sighed and sat back down on the couch. "'How long'…?" I thought about it for a few seconds. "Well I guess it depends on what you mean. When I was a kid, my parents were killed in front of me…" I frowned at the memory. "I was so depressed and scared I started cutting myself…it was horrible, Mello…but I stopped when I became friends with you," I smiled with the good memories of Mello and I at Wammy's. "I didn't start again until about three months after you left," My smile was erased while the good memories were replaced with bad. "and I've been doing it since."

"I'm so, so, sorry, Mail." Mello apologized again.

"Stop doing that, will you?" I said.

"Doing what…?" He asked.

"Apologizing. It's creepy." I joked.

A small smile made it's way to Mello's face, which made me smile too.

We were quiet for a few moments before Mello spoke again. "Can I see?"

"Huh?"

"The cuts," He clarified. "Can I see them?"

I looked at him doubtfully. I don't really want him to see them. "It's not really necessary, Mello." I told him.

"It is to me," He argued. "I need to see."

I sighed and hesitantly pulled my sleeve up. My arm was riddled with scars from years of abuse, the one from yesterday still covered by the gauze.

"What are you doing?" I asked, when I saw Mello slowly and carefully unwrapping it.

"I'm seeing how bad it was," Was his reply.

I tried to protest, but Mello stubbornly continued. Instead, I turned away so I at least wouldn't have to see his reaction when he saw it. Unfortunately, I could hear his reaction.

"Oh my God!" He gasped.

I painfully turned back to face him. His eyes were fixated on the red mark, tears threatening him once again.

"Mello, I'm-"

"Never do it again!" He ordered.

"I…don't think I can do that, Mello." That surprised even me. I never went against Mello's command.

"Why?" He demanded.

"It's too hard…" I replied. I knew it sounded dumb, but I didn't know how else to describe it.

"Will you try?" He wondered, pain-filled eyes staring back at me.

"…If you'll help me." I reasoned.

"Of course." He instantly agreed.

"…All right, then," I proclaimed. "I will try my best not to hurt myself ever again."

"And I'll be right there if you slip up," Mello added. "Agreed?"

I nodded.

"Good," He told me, intertwining his fingers with mine. "Because I love you, idiot, and it kills me to see you do this to yourself."

It took me a minute to process what he had just told me, but, when it did, my eyes widened in shock.

"You what?"

He looked at me, a sly smile spreading across his lips. "I said, 'I love you'." He repeated.

A stupid, cheesy grin spread across my face. "You do?!" I exclaimed childishly.

Mello laughed. "Yes. Idiot."

I couldn't contain my smile as I leaned in and pressed my lips against his. He kissed me back. When we pulled apart, I whispered to him, "I love you, too."

And I don't think I'll ever cut myself again.