[[A/N Ok, I admit it, I'm a twilight fan, and this idea came to me in the middle of a very restless night. Enjoy xx]]
And So the Lion Fell In Love with the Lamb
"And so the lion fell in love with the lamb."
How such a simple quotation could explain one's own life so perfectly.
The lion, strong, bold, assertive, inexplicably perfect.
The lamb, young, stupid, irrational, forever in love.
And what should one think when the superior lion falls for said lamb?
Should the lamb run out of fear; the fear of being chewed up and spat back out?
Or should the lamb stay out of shock; the shock that someone, something, as perfect as the lion could possibly fall for him?
He followed him around like a lost puppy. Day and night, the two were always together. It was simple to see what was going on. The addict, the acquiescent, the dependable and expendable.
And his idol. The drug, the lover, the protector, the vital component in their parallel worlds.
He savoured the time he spent alone with him. Time unblemished by others, time that was theirs and theirs alone. All the time growing closer and jerking apart when they became aware of their closeness.
He would stare when he thought nobody was looking. He would slowly reach out, as if to touch the object of his desires, only to recoil within a millisecond of touching him.
After a while, he started to make excuses to be alone, without the object of his affections. He began to feel that the world would be a better place without him. And the further away from his assertive, unknowing other half, the more alone he began to feel, the less he was noticed by others and the more convinced he became that his existence was a meaningless charade.
He believed that after a while, people would forget about him. He would be another of "those" kids who just disappeared. He stopped leaving his room at meal times, choosing, instead, to eat when everyone else had left. He missed a class here, he skipped a class there. Here and there gradually becoming everyday. Still nobody noticed, or so he thought.
Red-brown hair and stark green eyes, flawless skin and an enthralling voice. Perfection personified. Nobody else noticed the secret, stolen looks passed between them. Even they didn't fully recognise it.
He would look at the redhead, trying to see his expression; an expression he kept hidden behind orange tinted goggles. As he held a cocktail stick between his teeth and kept his head huddled over a video game, it would be hard for anyone who didn't know who he was or where he was from to guess that the antisocial 5'5" redhead was a genius. More still, if he had focused on his work, he could have been the best. He looked up, their eyes met for barely a second, and then… nothing.
Nothing more from the redhead to suggest anything. No other feelings out of place or in his mind. At least, not until the redhead started to fade away into the background.
A class skipped here or there could be put down to illness. Reasons to be alone seemed justifiable. But soon, the redhead had faded out of his life almost completely, to be replaced by nameless, faceless acquaintances.
He felt lost without the redhead by his side. He felt empty. He felt as though half himself had disappeared from the world without a second thought to how the part left behind may feel.
Every time the door to a class they shared opened, a spark of hope would swell in his mind only to deflate when it wasn't who he hoped. Meal times had become a chore and all he wanted was to watch the redhead hunch over a video game and twirl a toothpick in his mouth with his tongue.
Soon, his work began to slip, he started missing classes too. He stopped caring about anything that didn't have red hair and green eyes; a small dimple when he smiled; orange tinted goggles and a look that reminded him of a confused puppy when he was asked a simple question. He missed the distinct scent of cigarettes and coffee mixed with something he couldn't quite pinpoint, he missed the voice that would put God's angels to shame and a laugh that almost intoxicated him; but the one thing he couldn't care more about, the thing he missed the most and possibly the most important thing he could imagine was the other half of him.
The redhead felt lost without his idea of perfection. Half of him craved to feel his touch, to hear his voice, to see his face, to taste his lips, to speak his name. Half of him wanted to run away and never see him again. He wanted to deny his feelings, he wanted for them to not exist. He wanted to be able to look at the blonde haired, blue eyed devil in disguise without feeling the heat rushing to his face and the need to turn away.
The blonde was at a loss with out his other half. He needed to see him, to hold him, to laugh and smile with him. He needed to hear the captivating voice of someone so innocent and pure it was inconceivable to imagine he could think more of their apparent friendship.
When the lion fell in love with the lamb, he thought it unfitting to do or say anything.
When the lamb realised his feelings for the lion his first instinct was to run.
Now neither the lion nor the lamb know what to do. Neither can understand the inexplicable distance between them.
Mello looked up expectantly, as he did each time the door to his bedroom swung open. Once again he was disappointed.
"Roger wants to see you," the nameless person said before leaving abruptly.
Mello stood up and sighed. The false hope that one day soon Matt may come back into his life faded away quickly. He had become used to the hollowness that filled him, he had become used to the despair that had settled in the pit of his stomach and the anguish that had made it's home in depths of his heart. He heard the door open once again.
"I'm going in a moment, tell Roger to relax," he said, not bothering to turn around.
"I'm not here about Roger."
The voice that replied shocked Mello. It spawned emotions Mello thought he had long since lost. Every instinct screamed at him to turn and face the source, but he couldn't force his feet to do his mind's bidding.
"Matt" he asked hoarsely, the simple word he'd thought so much in the last few months, seemed stuck in his mind.
"Can I come in?" Matt asked.
Mello turned slowly, after several months of barely seeing the redhead, Mello felt like he was looking at him for the first time again. The messy red hair was slightly longer, just past his jaw. His emerald eyes dulled by the goggles he systematically adjusted, the dimple that Mello saw for barely a second before Matt's slight smile vanished. Mello nodded and sat on his bed.
"I…" Matt started. "No wait, that's wrong. Dammit."
Matt pulled his goggles from over his eyes and placed them on his head. He looked at Mello and sighed as he sat on the edge of the blonde's bed.
Mello looked different to him. The blonde hair that framed his face was untidy, his pale blue eyes looked crushed and his skin was sallow. He was watching Matt carefully, scrutinising him, almost. He closed his eyes and rubbed his face.
"What do you want, Matt?" he asked, wearily.
Matt looked shocked, the urge to reach out and touch him, hold him, almost overcoming the logical side of his mind.
"I'm sorry," Matt whispered as he stood up and made to leave.
"Wait," Mello said, quickly as he stood up and grabbed Matt's wrist. "Matt, please wait."
Matt's eyes widened at the innocent touch, a touch he had craved for longer than was healthy. He realised his eyes were focused on Mello's hand and looked up at his face, he was instantly met by Mello's gaze.
"Mello…" Matt started.
"Why did you disappear?" Mello asked uncompromisingly.
"Mello… please," Matt said, his gaze faltering slightly.
Mello's hand dropped to his side. "Why did you leave me?" he asked again, quieter this time, more timidly.
"Mello… I didn't leave you…" Matt said faintly.
"You disappeared, you faded into the background until you weren't there anymore."
"It was easier," Matt tried to explain, his eye's not quite meeting the blonde's. "It was easier for me to not be around you."
"Why?" Mello hooked his finger under Matt's chin, forcing the slightly shorter boy to meet his eyes.
Matt took Mello's hand in his own and took it away from his face.
"Mello, please," he said, closing his eyes.
Mello's heart began to race. Matt was still holding his hand. He wasn't thinking, he reached up and pushed Matt's hair out of his face, his hand gently lingering on the redhead's face. "Matt," Mello said as he moved closer to the redhead. "What's wrong?"
Matt looked at the blonde. They were so close now, close enough to touch. 'Close enough to kiss.'
The lion and the lamb. So mutually exclusive, to put the two together would be like paring chalk and cheese. So different the result could only be imagined in the reality of movies and books. The helpless lamb making the first move. The almighty lion, powerless to resist. The inconsequential moment when they realise it's more than they dreamed of, more than they had hoped for. The moment when a young love roots itself deep inside the soul and becomes an intense affection, the moment they realise the rest of their lives would be such a long time without each other, and forever, too short with the other. They are the world to one another. The sun, the air, the water, the stars, the moon, such things would be meaningless without the other person to share it with.
Lights surround him. Cameras flash. He grinds to a halt. He takes a deep breath and opens the door. He prepares to make a stand. He is shot dead within moments.
He closes his eyes. The last thing he sees is the smiling face of his lover. He starts to feel strange, yet slightly content. He feels a tingling sensation in his left arm. He brings his right hand up to his chest. It should hurt, to feel your heart stop, then he realises he was waiting for this moment from the second he saw the barrage of bullets rain into his friend, his partner, his lover, his heart had already been ripped from his body, he was just waiting for the effects.
***