When love makes itself known, one should not try to hide from it, unless one is afraid of commitment, or complete, and utter, destruction.
Mello snorted as he read the cynical love quote in the newspaper. Afraid of commitment? Him? There was no way. He loved Matt with all his heart, and not even the fear of Matt's parents descending on him like the plague could stop him, let alone a sappy love quote. Oh wait. That's right. Matt's parents were gone.
Everyone was gone.
And now it was only him and Matt, flying solo.
And even Matt had seemed to be growing distant lately. His distance had discouraged Mello from telling him his true feelings about the gamer. Right. Not that Matt would reciprocate them anyway. Matt's only true lover was his PlayStation controller, Mello was willing to bet on it.
Mello sighed as he stood up from the table, placing his coffee mug in the sink. There was no point wasting time brooding over sappy love quotes in newspapers. There was a big task to accomplish today in the race to find Kira.
Mello watched from his truck as Matt's car swung to a stop, surrounded by several other police cars. Mello watched as Matt stepped out of the car, gave cocky answers. Mello watched as Matt was gunned down, forcefully, brutally, without even a chance to inhale a puff of that noxious smoke he liked to breathe in from those stupid cancer sticks.
Damn him. Mello had known that smoking would get him killed. But did he listen? No, never! And Mello didn't want to believe it, but there it was, solid evidence right before his eyes: Matt, Mail Jeevas, was dead on the street. Dead. Gone.
Leaving Mello here on Earth to take place in a two manned dance where he didn't know how to dance the second part.
Damn him, damn him, damn him.
Fuck, Mello thought wistfully. I need to expand my vocabulary.
D amn him.
E ven though he already left me, I can't help but wish that he wasn't dead.
N o, I know I'm in denial. Really I do.
I just can't help staring at the screen and hoping that he'll suddenly pop up with that stupid grin on his face and a smile that says, "Fooled ya!"
A ll I ever wanted was to tell him I loved him. I couldn't.
L ove is such a hurtful bitch.
A nd so what? He decides to up and just leave me here?
N ot that I ever expected him to return my feelings.
G uess this was God's way of telling me Matt didn't love me back; just in a subtler tone.
E nding his life was your way of getting me back for being gay, wasn't it, God?!
R eligion is such a spiteful bitch. I hate you, God.
B ut you know what?
A ll I can ask for now is to strike up a deal.
R age against me all you want for the hateful words I murmured to you while clasping my rosary.
G od, you took what I loved most, and threw it away.
A nd I want it back. I want Matt back.
I realize that he's probably condemned to hell, too.
N ot that I didn't know that from the start.
I f you can't bring him back from the dead, if you can't show me a miracle, let me go to the same place he's going.
N ot like I ever meant to go to Heaven anyway. I've murdered too many people.
G od, please bring Matt and me back together. Of this I pray.
D ead. That's what he is.
E nded. That's what his life is.
P lease, Matt, I've always meant to tell you that I loved you.
R eally, I've always meant to tell you.
E ven when I knew you wouldn't want to hear it, I still wanted to tell you.
S till, Matt. I love you.
S tone cold your body may be, but I still love you.
I love you.
O ne day, maybe you'll see that you love me, too, but I'm
N ot expecting that day to come when I'm still alive.
A ll I have is this useless beating heart inside me. I want to
C ry and scream and rage at the heavens, and then I want to
C ry some more.
E nd my life. You know. I guess I'm suicidal. But what I really want, Matt, is to be with you again.
P ress my body against yours when you're sleeping.
T alk with you and hear your voice.
A nd above all, tell you that I love you.
N ever have I lifted a hand to you in anger.
C an't do anything about you being dead, though. There's only one thing I can do now.
E nd my life.
Mello's heart contracted and he spasmed in pain, wincing. And then he smiled. Cardiac arrest. Beautiful.
Now here he was, spasming, writhing in pain, and smiling. Just another Kira victim. That would be what the authorities thought. But what the authorities wouldn't be able to explain was the smile on his face.
"Matt," he whispered in between pained breaths, "I love you."
And then his world went black, and Mihael Keehl was gone. Completely and utterly destroyed.