AN: So, Wammy's era. No pre-established relationship. Just Mello and Matt as roommates. Hope you enjoy. -Niwa

I DON'T OWN DEATH NOTE!

Mello's a night owl. That is a widely known fact at Wammy's. I share a room with him, so I'm used to the sudden noises of somebody getting up and walking out the door. Mello also has this thing for showers. At 2 am. Literally, I'll wake up to the sound of running water, then I can't fall asleep again.

Or his music. The kid's a music junkie. He's addicted to rock and techno. Nightcore, anything with a beat satisfying enough for him. He plays it on full volume. Sure, he wears headphones, but still. It's freaking loud. It can be pretty scary, too.

I woke up one morning to find Mello on my computer, looking qt pictures of an abandoned asylum while listening to a song called Counting Bodies Like Sheep. Freaking scared the living hell out of me.

I mean, all of this takes terrible toll on him. He has bags under his eyes almost as dark as L's, and almost never smiles. I'm sure most of this is from the severe depression he suffers from (I've seen his medication) but some part of me wonders if he's just too tired to smile. I'm sure he's going to go deaf soon.

But, this time he got up, I felt like he wasn't going to return. It was late, definitely past 12 am, and my eyes were hardly open, I was facing left, so I could tell when he got up. He walked over to the door, and moments before he opened it, I knew I had to say something. So I did.

"Mells." I said groggily, and I heard him turn around and soon he was sitting beside my bed.

"I'm just catching a bus to the city for a bit. I'll be back." He muttered, and tired to get up, but I gripped his arm, fearing for him. "Lay with me." I muttered.

Mello rolled his eyes, but still did that thing where he snapped at me, but the undertone was gentle, "Fine." He climbed over me and curled up beside me, his arms snaking around my waist. I threaded my fingers with his, feeling the icy hands warmed by his warm ones. I've always been a "freeze baby" (according to my mom, god rest her soul).

We laid in silence for a couple minutes, awkwardness growing in-between us.

"U lukomoriya dub zelenyi, латая це Zlataya tsep' na dube tom, I dniem i nochyu kot uchyonyi, Vsyo khodit po tsepi krugom." Mello sang softly. I get it...he's trying to get me to fall asleep, so he can leave.

"Mells?" I asked.

"I'm here, Matt." He whispers, the ghost of his breath on my throat, his voice softly accented, the way it gets when he says anything in Russian.

"..."

"Don't leave me." I whisper, tears coming, quickly and unwillingly. Mello can feel me crying, apparently, because he unthreads our hands and reaches up (blindly, in the dark) to wipe them away, accidentally poking my eye once. I don't bother to make any noises of pain, or push him away and claim "I'm fine" the way I normally would.

"I won't." He replies, Russian accent giving his voice an archangel feel. I feel his lips press into my throat, and against it, he repeats, "I won't..."

"Good." I say, the soft lull of sleep seducing me. Before my eyelids close, I say something I should have thought.

"I love you, Mells." The last thing I hear is him respond... "I love you too."

Timeskip-

Roger burst into the room, and I shot up. Electricity flows through my veins, the jolted awake feeling is giving me energy. "Mello?" Roger asks, panic in his voice as he sees my chocoholic (boyfriend?) isn't in his bed. Mello moans next to me. With a soft smile on my face I realize, he fell asleep. For the first time in what... 5 days?

"He's right here. What happened?" I ask Roger, affectionately touching Mello's shoulder. He rolls over and halfheartedly mutters, "10 more minutes." Roger breathes a sigh of relief and looks from me to Mello.

"What happened, Roger?" I ask more ferociously than before. "A bus going into the city crashed last night. There were no survivors. I thought Mello had snuck out again." He says, then his suspicions seem to be cleared, and he exits, looking relived.

"Mello." I murmur, shaking his shoulder. He bolts upright, blonde hair a mess, looking much better than he had in days (go sleeping...), asking, "Who died? I swear, it wasn't my fault." I rose my eyebrows, then Decided against criticizing him. I could have lost him last night. He's here, he's fine. Thank God. I put my hands on his shoulders and pull him closer, my lips fitting to his like they'd been designed too.

At first, Mello makes a 'mmph' noise, but melts into the kiss. His lounge touches my lips, hesitant of my reaction. I pulled away, throwing my arms around him and holding him there.

"Is it my damn birthday or something?" Mello asks, confusion evident in his voice. "No." I say, "I'm just happy to have you here."

"Why wouldn't I be?" Mello responds, and I can feel the cocky smile on his face. He's always talking about God being with you in times of need... For once he's right about spiritual stuff. God was with me.

AN: All I can write anymore is fluffy shit. XD I hope you liked! For Mello's song beginning translation: /f13/favorite-russian-childhood-lullabies-bedtime-stories-12818/ Plz review or comment or whatever :D

Also, a bit of backstory: This kind of came from one day when I was saying goodbye to my girlfriend before she went on a vacation. Before she left, we hugged (she was late for her plane, so it was kinda quick) and I felt like something really terrible was going to happen to her. Did I sleep that night? nope. But when she came back, 1 week later, she was fine. Anyways, I believe she was fine because on that night I didn't sleep, I prayed like heck. Anyways, ciao~