Close your eyes, you will be okay.

Heavy lids shut as bony fingers unravelled the beige-tainted gauze. The left side of the face was still covered with pads, recovering at an astonishing rate. In spite of the rapid heartbeat, he exhaled gradually, as if each breath was to be his last. Admittedly, the fear of his reflection kept him restless, anxious and hoping to God the image wouldn't be resenting. Removing the pad from his face he took in a short breath of suspense and when his eyes opened, they focused on the healing cream smeared on the pad. Yellow and brown were rubbed together to create this disgusting colour. It could not bring his skin back, no one could, not even God himself.

Even with his eyes closed, the picture of himself faded into an unrecognizable blur. He swallowed a lump of tears stuck in his throat and disposed of the pad, as well as the gauze. For one second he doubted his decision to finally look at himself, but there was no going back now. The urge became too unbearable. One glance could destroy him forever, yet no glance would eat him alive. Azure eyes moved up to face the bathroom mirror. The world around him stopped and he felt his heart drop to his feet.

Resentful.

The closest object hit the glass, shattering it into a million pieces. As his chest tightened and his legs gave up under him, he fell to the cold tiles, scratching the bare skin of his thigh as he watched the blood trickle to the ground. All those shards he could use to end this misery right now scattered all over his shaking body.

Disgusting.

It wasn't the only scar his body had, but certainly the most prominent one. His eyes narrowed as the salty water mingled with the blood pools around him. He couldn't stand this. This was hell. Death had never been a greater temptation to him. His black nails dug into his pale skin. Red looked so good on white, didn't it? He caught a glance of his scar in one of the shards.

Monster. Monster. Monster!

Someone's hands clasped on his right shoulder. A familiar voice spoke, but he couldn't be bothered. This voice wouldn't bring him back. He wanted himself back. He didn't want to be a monster. Arms wrapped around him, carrying him out of his room, the scent of cigarettes and strawberries hanging in the air. That seemed nice. Cushions. Skin. Heartbeat? His name… His name…

"Mello!" He jolted as he heard the voice.

"M-Matt…"

"Calm down. Close your eyes, you will be okay."

Matt's voice formed the words into a husky whisper, making Mello tremble and curl up on his lap. The scratches on his thighs stopped bleeding, but the tears still flowed down his right eye. He shut his eyes and felt a hand at his dark blond hair, trying to calm him with gentle strokes.

The price was much more than he could have ever imagined. For all the souls he took, he might have taken a few too many and angered the Lord. After the explosion he lost his rosary, half of his face and shoulder, but not his faith in God.

Forgive me, Lord, for I have sinned all these years.

Mello stopped crying when he felt Matt's arms tighten around him. Uneasiness came with it as he remembered the words of God himself, he ought to embrace no man but his own father. Yet with this caring embrace, the blond couldn't help himself. The mere touch of Matt's hands allured him, left him yearning for more. It has been forever since they had last hugged each other, around ten years ago when they weren't older than nine. The nights they spent talking and sneaking into each other's beds during storms and how they could hear the beating of their hearts in the silence. The smiles, that hid so much pain, so much need.

As he lifted his chin to look at Matt, he was met with bedazzling emeralds. The twinkle in them remained, even if the happiness didn't spark as bright anymore. A lanky hand trailed along the freckled cheek, a thumb slid across velvet lips and azure eyes followed every single movement. The world seemed to stop for a second time. But one unintended brush against his left shoulder brought him back to reality. This was Matt.

Forgive me, Lord, for I have lusted over this man.

Mello untangled his body from his auburn haired companion and rose to his feet. The ground suddenly became much more interesting than Matt and he stared at his blood-stained hands, praying to God inside his mind. It seemed unnatural for a mafia boss to be this religious, but his faith kept him alive in days of despair and loneliness.

"Mello, we have to treat your wound."

He could swear his left eye twitched for a second. Matt was right, but Mello didn't want to see the expression on Matt's face whenever he was confronted with this resenting image. Was this the reason he always told him to close his eyes? Did he not want Mello to see the disgusted grimace he made whenever he would treat his wound? The thought caused pain in his chest. After standing around for a handful of minutes, Mello sat down next to his friend on the worn out black couch. It only took Matt a minute to get the first aid kit from the kitchen and return to the blond.

"Close your eyes, you will be okay."

Reluctantly, he shut his lids and focused on his calm breathing. It was the same process as always. First Matt would clean the wound with stinging alcohol, leaving Mello whimpering in pain, then apply the healing cream, sticky yellow-brown substance was covered by a cotton pad, which was wrapped up in gauze. At last, he would check the other scars and cuts and if everything was okay again, he would whisper the words to him.

You are alright. Open your eyes now. Sleep, you need rest.

Yet the words were never uttered in the first place. After several seconds of silence, Mello opened his eyes. Matt looked heartbroken.

"Why did you do this?" It came out so weak and fragile.

"I had to… I had to see!"

"Why?"

"Because...!" he began, but he couldn't explain the rest. "I deserve it, don't I?"

"You don't!"

"Yes, I do, Matt. I have killed hundreds of people, innocent people, bad people… Something had to be taken from me, God is angry with me. I became a monster, resentful and… disgusting. How can you even… look at me?"

He choked on his own words. How could anyone look at him? He did not look human anymore, just deformed and ugly. Mello was about to burst into tears, but Matt embraced him once again.

"You are far from becoming a monster, Mello. I have known you for more than ten years now, and you are the reason I believe that angels truly do exist. You are the reason I am here, alive, with you and not back in that hell called Whammy House."

He was so sweet. He was so genuinely nice. He was the angel, not Mello.

"What will others think? I can't ever leave the apartment with a scar like this. I appreciate your efforts, but you must be blind if you honestly believe anyone will even want to stay near me."

"They don't know! Do you realize that? All they will see is your scar. They will think you are bad and that you deserve this, but they don't realize that… That they are looking at a fallen angel." His voice lowered carefully, and he pulled back from the embrace to gaze into Mello's eyes. "You must show them that you are more than just your.. Skin."

Matt didn't realize the impact his words would have on the blond. He didn't know that Mello would be left speechless and that moments like this made him question everything he'd ever thought about the brunet. "Matt…"

Forgive me, Lord, for I am in love with a man.

Sitting in nothing but their boxers, they gazed into each other's eyes and left so many things unsaid. Mello trailed his hand across the freckled cheek and stroked his thumb over velvet lips. With half lid eyes, the blond whispered as his forehead touched Matt's.

"What is an… angel like you, doing with a devil like me?"

"He's waiting for his chance…"

And their smiles hid so much desire, so much pain and all the need. Mello didn't think about it and whispered against his lips.

"Close your eyes, you will be okay."

Forgive me, Lord, for I am committing a sin of the unspeakable. Forgive me, Lord, for this is all I ever wanted.

The kiss was an explosion of emotions, coursing through his veins and leaving him helplessly devoted to this man before him. Mello knew, that this meant more than it could ever have with anyone else in this world. The embrace lasted for a while. The blond could feel his heart beat fast and when he moved his hand to Matt's bare chest, the sounds of their heartbeats filled the whole room. A love as rare as a dragon's teeth, blossoming with the beauty of a rose.

For once, when he closed his eyes, everything truly would be okay.