To those of you who believe that Valentine's Day should not be a designated holiday, but rather any moment your eyes meet and you feel it.
I do not own Death Note as I do not have the correct characteristics to be Obata or Ohba. I appreciate Death Note and, as such, am not making any money off of this. The only earning I receive is getting to write something sweeter (seeing as college essays fail to be so).
In a Moment
The dusty, light brown curtains blew with the early chill of morning as the chirping of birds drifted in from the open window. Blue eyes stared tiredly out from under half open lids as the shuffling of sock-covered feet joined the melody of the morning. A pale hand wiped at the eyes as lips tore open in a wide, drawn out yawn. Rubbing at his eyes to get the warm tears building up in the corner of his eyes out, the dark-haired youth walked to the open window as he muttered to himself.
Hands wrapped around the end of the window and suddenly pulled it shut with a loud clack that blew the curtains and some of the dust into his face. He coughed and hacked as he tried to get the dust out of his already dry, morning mouth. "Damn it, Mello," he coughed, wondering why his blonde-haired friend felt it okay to leave the window open all night when he knew the room would be cold in the morning. But ever since his little accident, Mello had grown fonder of the cold temperatures. Matt had dealt with it at first, since he figured the cooler temperatures felt better on the still healing burn. However, Mello had either become in favor of the cold or he just had a habit now of opening the window late at night. Either way, Matt didn't particularly enjoy this little habit anymore; especially when he now felt Mello was doing it only because Matt slept in his undergarments. He figured the little, quirky smile that Mello often gave him when he brought up the topic of the window meant that the other found it amusing that Matt froze in his underwear in the morning.
He ran fingers through dark brown locks as the curtains settled back into place. If he was quiet enough he could hear Mello breathe from the bedroom lightly as he imagined the rise and fall of his chest in unison. Matt sighed and leaned against the wall next to the window as a small smile played against his lips. Sometimes you could forget how vulnerable another person could really be, but every ounce of strength is always a defense of some sort. Mello was just as vulnerable as anyone else, but he hid it well behind chocolate bars and bitter anger. But the stress from his accident and the toll it took on his body weakened his immune system and he was currently sick. It was why he could hear him from the small distance that bridged the bedroom to the living room in the tiny apartment.
His eyes drifted toward the roof as he heard the bed creak and then settle back down to the quiet it had previously instilled. The lack of feet shuffling on carpet told him Mello was still asleep and had simply turned over. Pulling a pack of cigarettes from the floor by one of his monitors, Matt stuck a lone stick in his mouth and let it sit there calmly. He placed the butt between his teeth and chewed the end a bit just for the stimulation it provided alone.
Stepping lightly, Matt wandered to the kitchen and pulled the lighter from off the counter top. He flicked it twice before the flame caught and he could place it against the end of the stick that protruded from out of his mouth. Taking in a deep breath, Matt let the burning fumes hang in his lungs before he let the breath roll out in waves across the kitchen air.
Bending down, the brown-haired man proceeded to open one of the bottom drawers and pull out a solid milk chocolate bar. He flipped it over in his hand cautiously, before turning to look curiously over his shoulder at the young man whose flavor of the week was always chocolate. Matt smiled when he heard another small creak from the bed as his love shifted on the old mattress once more.
Unwrapping it, Matt placed the open chocolate on the counter and pulled open the door of a longer closet where dried goods were supposed to be stuck. Rummaging through the objects, a pale hand fingered the rough ridges of a white tube and he yanked it out from under the cereal box with a little difficulty. The cereal box clashed to its side in defeat and Matt smiled at the tube of red frosting he had pulled out.
Walking over to the chocolate bar, Matt stared out the only window in the kitchen for a few moments; just standing there, the tube hanging loosely from the tips of his fingers. He wasn't a nature person, wasn't ever much of a people person, but sometimes he couldn't help but feel the sun touch the earth and feel the cool wind as it embraced life and death. Another stream of smoke rolled across the window and Matt found himself unhooking the lock and pulling open the glass that separated him from it all. He let the fingers resting against the glass briefly fog up the area around him and he couldn't help but wonder if the dead radiated the same heat. He knew the answer, but today wasn't much of the day to face reality.
Pulling cool fingertips away, Matt finished closing the gap between the chocolate bar and himself. He pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and let the smoke breeze in the small wind that the natural world provided. Tapping the cigarette against the edge of the sink, he let embers glow and dim in the same moment as blue eyes watched casually; life and death. In the same moment, the embers live and die just as in the same moment both life and death occurs as the time keeps flowing. Where did it all go?, he wondered.
He pulled a small cup out from the cupboard above his head and placed the cigarette in there for the moment. Twisting the cap off the tube, Matt mused over the thought that you could be so close to one person and never know how they felt, that you could say all the words you wanted until you were blue in the face and still never know. There was always some doubt and he felt something in his stomach wrench at the thought. Still, it was a worthwhile feeling to be there in someone's arms, feeling as if their love for you matched the same idea that you perceived as love, a confectionary of reds and whites that left you craving more.
Matt smiled softly as he squeezed a bit of the red paste onto his finger and subsequently stuck it into his mouth. He wrapped his tongue around the red paste and tasted the burst of sweet that interacted oddly with the bitter cigarette that lingered, but it tasted wonderful. A sigh escaped his lips as he pulled his finger out of his mouth and proceeded to use the red frosting on the surface of the chocolate bar.
First, he drove the liquid solid straight and then capped it off with two shorter, horizontal lines. He drew a heart and colored through it like he was back in his seven-year-old life where staying in lines was the goal and not finishing the coloring job; those were the days everyone ended up missing the most. He proceeded carefully as he finished the rest of his play of lines and then proceeded to step back and read the chocolate, newly layered with frosting:
'I love you, Mello'
He smiled and ran his finger a bit over some of the heart in order to draw a little of the frosting off without disturbing the shape too much. At least, that was what the heart represented: love. It was known now that the brain is responsible for thoughts and feelings such as love, yet the heart stubbornly remains the symbol of love. A small victory for love to remain unchanged by the new knowledge of society that emerged everyday the sun rose in its pretty, particle sky made of atoms instead of dreams and thoughts. He preferred this victory the most.
The bed groaned loudly from the bedroom and Matt stood up straight as he let his finger pull out of his mouth again. He picked up the cigarette, now dwindling near two-thirds of its original size and drew another breath from it. All the words in the world until you were blue in the face, and he'd still never convey to Mello just how much he actually loved the other. That choking feeling that leaves your lips numb as theirs draws away and makes you feel as if you'll never speak the language again properly; it was a beautiful lesson in life, and in drowning.
"Matt…?" he heard a husky voice croak out as the voice tried to regain the ability to speak in the light of day.
He remained where he was, but his eyes lightened with something that felt like happiness, genuine happiness. Naturally, he littered his life with flashing graphics and movement, a sort of method to distract himself from the dullness that life provided. Another way to fight the fear of death, as existentialist believed, was to wrap your world in something to distract the confrontation with the thoughts. He, himself, was never good with people, but Mello somehow proved to be different. The other had approached him first and Matt had been uncomfortable with the idea of human contact. He could talk and communicate with people, if need be, but he just never formed relationships well.
Either way, he one day decided to take the blonde up on his offer of friendship. He closed his eyes slowly and took another drag from the cigarette; he could still remember some of the memories from the orphanage if he just closed his eyes. He let the air out of his lungs; he would never forget some of those events. The first romantic moment he had ever had with Mello, and then he didn't know that it was love. The feeling of butterflies twirling in his stomach wasn't there, the red mar of the face in embarrassment wasn't there— nothing characteristic of the little myths they give you of love. But the bliss. The bliss is one thing that he could never forget about that moment.
"Matt…?" came the voice again, and he opened his eyes to look at the blonde hair mused in the process of sleep.
"Good morning, Mello."
He sat in the large dining room by himself. The building, being built some years ago, was not up to date on the kinds of lighting that most schools harbored; meaning the lights were not sensitive to movement. So he sat in the dark, barely shaking his head to move his bangs out of his eyes as he drummed on the buttons of his controller. His current game system was probably the only thing that wasn't half a century old in this school, he thought with mild amusement.
The window was cracked open despite the log in the fireplace that crackled loudly as the fire danced upon the cedar wood that livened the dining hall with its fresh scent. The room, having been closed for the most part of the day, had heated up considerably due to the flames, so Matt had chosen to crack open one of the windows. He was sure he would get in trouble with their caretaker if he were caught, but his only interest at the moment had been that the room was too hot for him to occupy. Now it was purely focused on the RPG in his hand that he had been stuck on for a week.
Even with the sound on, he couldn't help but overhear the joyous rapture of freedom as it burst from cold-kissed lips and carried on the whistling wind. He looked up occasionally out of interest, but never moved to get a better look at the owner of the smooth voice. His rapture was in a dark room, by himself, as the click of buttons and the crick of his thumbs let him know he was alive. The other's rapture was in kicking balls high into the air and soaring after them with legs pounding the soft dirt beneath. He just never was that person.
Still, the voice somehow intertwined and mingled with the happiness that ebbed and flowed in the dark air. A small smile flashed on his lips and he heard the happy cry of "score!" as he brought the sword down at the press of an "A." He sat back in his chair and let the game hang loosely in his hand as his heart thumped out triumphantly. There was something to be said for spending hours playing video games, he thought.
A voice from outside called noisily for the children and the game clunked onto the table with a thud as he jumped at the sound. He turned around in his seat and heard the feminine call of their supervisor. She was announcing something and Matt looked over his shoulder to see if the game was okay to be alone for a few minutes. Snatching it up off the table, he looked it over and decided he didn't need to hit pause, but he did so anyway. Folding the protective screen over it, Matt pushed it into his jean pocket and leaned out the window to hear her better.
In all honesty, he was supposed to be outside at the current moment. But he really didn't feel like it and he felt, although twelve years old, that he was perfectly capable of handling his own supervision. After all, who better to know where you were at all times? So perhaps the fireplace and window combination was the least of his problems, but then it would probably be hung around his neck like a cross anyway.
She was frantically calling his name and he heard the childish voice say something not quite audible, but it seemed to soothe her. He watched the boy in black shift from foot to foot before speaking quietly again. She nodded, and he walked into the building behind the other kids who had been filing in during her panic. Turning her gaze one last time on the field, she surveyed the scene before treading into the building too.
Sighing, he went to turn away from the window when the lights suddenly clicked on and filled the once dark room with searing lights. Matt jumped and cried out in surprise as his eyes tried to adjust to the lights that burned the back of his corneas. He rubbed his eyes and heard a voice ask with calm disconcert if he was okay. Nodding, Matt identified the white-haired boy as Near as soon as he could see the edges of the large, white cloth that made up his pajamas.
His eyesight had almost fully returned as other children filed in and Matt blinked a few times in an attempt to dislodge the huge purple and green dots that floated on his screen of vision. Near had taken a seat at the same table that Matt had occupied, and the other kids quickly followed like geese. Matt watched Near draw his legs up onto the seat as he silently cursed him for bringing the others to his table. When the dots had finally cleared, Matt realized there was no way to tell that he had sat there before Near came in and thus he couldn't be blamed for it. Well, except the chair, he thought as he slinked moodily into the still pulled out seat. Surely, Near hadn't miss that.
"Where have you been!" a tall woman exclaimed as she jogged up to Matt and started touching his face. He sniffled and tried to shoo her away as she fused over him in a vain attempt to tell from the skin on his face his prior locations.
"I was in here." He stated calmly, finally managing to get her hands off him with wild motions of his own.
"Why?" As if that wasn't the stupidest question he'd ever heard.
"I don't like going outside." He repeated to the woman as she rested her palms and bent down in order to put them on eye level. It was supposed to be beneficial to a child, but it only unnerved him and made him feel a little squeamish. "Near doesn't have to," he pointed out, nodding towards the other boy in order to get attention off himself.
He temporarily watched white hair twirl over a pale finger and then looked back up at her. She had apparently been watching Near too, as her eyes shifted to meet his once more. He half jumped, but turned in his chair as if to get a better look at Near and all his odd glory.
She smiled brightly and he caught the motion out of the corner of his eye, "Near asked, darling, you came outdoors and then disappeared on me without a word. I get worried about you guys, kiddo."
He nodded as an off sort of apology and acknowledgment and she, thankfully, took the hint and made sure the others found a place to sit down. The black-clothed individual from earlier came in and slipped into the seat next to Matt; much to his dismay.
"Hello." Mello nodded curtly toward him, briefly flashing him a smile before turning his head toward the door expectantly. When what he expected didn't happen, Mello moved out of his seat a little to tug at the sleeve of a Chinese boy who looked about eleven. "What's going on?"
"I don't know," the other boy said, pulling his sleeve out of Mello's hand as he straightened the neck of the shirt back to its appropriate location. "I think it's got to be food though."
"Can't be." Mello shook off the notion, "We never get food at this time and—"
"Perhaps it's candy?" Linda asked, leaning over on her elbow towards Mello. "Valentine's Day is soon."
"We've never celebrated it before." The Chinese boy pointed out, looking beside him toward his female companion.
"There's always a first." She piped up.
"Well, I think it's a new kid." He said, sticking his nose in the air dramatically so he could nod with an emphasis. Matt watched the short, black hair tap against his forehead through the movement.
"Can't be." Near spoke softly, deliberately, "There is nothing worse than greeting an orphan, seeing what conditions he arrives here."
"Then add to the theory, Near." Mello challenged, channeling as much potential malice in the other's name that he could. Near, however, had had his share and was now watching their last supervisor leave the room as he continued wrapping a white strand around his index.
"I still hope it's candy." Linda sighed, sliding further on her elbow across the table top as her mouth watered at the simple memory of sweets.
"He's here." Near spoke, quietly facing towards the table as the wooden door opened to admit an elderly man. The room fell silent as the man slowly walked across the tiled floor with the click of his shoes being the only audible noise. He stopped just behind the Chinese youth and surveyed the small group of children he had directed the young woman to guide into the room after they had had their exercise outside and had blown off some energy.
He smiled at the children and a few of the younger, more nervous ones shakily smiled back at him. Matt fingered the game in his pocket, but kept his eyes directed towards the man who walked a few paces away to stand on the raised podium where sometimes they made announcements during meals. He cleared his throat softly as if to get the room to settle down before starting.
"Good evening, children."
"Good afternoon, Mr. Roger." One kid squeaked as the rest of the group stopped after their salutations. He gave the little girl a smile and a nod to let her know she had done nothing unusual and had, in fact, given an acceptable greeting.
"Do any of you know why you are here?" Roger asked, looking at each of the small, round faces staring up at him. "Any suggestions?"
When no one jumped to speak, Linda shifted and finally opened her mouth, "Candy?"
Roger shook his head, but added, "Maybe there will be after the end of it."
Matt almost jumped when the blonde next to him suddenly sat straighter at the notion. He eyed him warily as the other opened his mouth to speak, "A lesson?"
"Good, Mello. What led you to that conclusion?"
"We are usually in here for food, but it's not time to eat. Also, usually you come when we have important lessons."
"Very good." Roger reaffirmed before continuing, "Mello is indeed right. I have called you here today at the request of my friend, Quillish Wammy. He was going over the reports of your well-being over the course of last week and something concerned him about them."
"There's something wrong—?" Mello asked in distress. His facial features twisted into a hurt expression and Matt decided his ego must've been damaged slightly by the comment. He honestly didn't much care if something were wrong in those reports. Scratching an area behind his ear with short fingernails, he figured he could probably be a better student if only he had the drive to put more effort into it.
"Let me finish." Roger commanded, holding his hand up to calm Mello into brooding silence, "These past few months I have gotten to notice your social habits and I have recorded them just as Wammy asked me to. He noticed them last week and I spent a significant time on the phone with him yesterday in discussion on the matter. He figured we should try to improve your abilities to interact with one another and we spent hours exchanging thoughts about how to go about it.
"We were getting nowhere when he got a somewhat unexpected arrival to the apartment he was staying at. At first his guest quietly assessed what our conversation was on and finally came up with a… reasonable suggestion as to what to do—"
"L?" Mello nearly jumped out of his seat in excitement, successfully scaring Matt in the process.
Roger affirmed the notion with a glance towards Mello alone. "We are going to have you boys and girls make a Valentine's card for someone in this room and present them with it."
Mello looked dumbfounded at the thought while the corners of Near's mouth turned up in understanding. Being one of two children in consideration to succeed L, Near was given some small accounts of how L worked. One of these infamous methods of his style included his diet and that, to the world's greatest detective, meant an array of sweets. Valentine's Day was just one holiday famous for sweets, and cards were usually received with the confectionaries. L's idea wasn't too far from the man's logic, then.
Their supervisor for recreational activities, such as outdoors time, came back into the room with a box of art supplies. "I've brought back the items you asked me to get, Roger." She smiled, letting the door slide off the hip she used to open it.
"Thank you." He smiled at her before addressing the children again, "You do not have to present them in front of the other children, but you must present it to at least one other. Mello, Wammy was amazed by your social abilities and, as such, has given you a specific task."
"Yes?" Mello asked, shaking a little with the excitement of a special task made for him.
"Your card," Roger began, "needs to be for Near." Near looked up at Roger at the mention of his name and then turned to look at Mello, who looked like pieces of his world had shattered like glass.
"For Near?!"
"Yes, for Near." Roger confirmed, "Your social skills have, so far, been the most superb that Wammy's has seen, but you also lack in your social interactions with Near. Dislike is normal for people, but yours extends far enough to influence most of your actions. Wammy and I feel it would be best if we could potentially create a less detrimental, or harmful, bond between you two."
"It's far past dislike." Mello growled, slumping back in his chair out of anger. He looked towards Matt, "Can you believe this?"
Matt nodded, "I don't think it'll do you any good, but I still see why—"
"You're no help." He growled, and Matt forced a smile not to spread across his face. In all honesty, Mello was probably the only kid who remotely attempted to talk to him at Wammy's House. He had been shocked speechless when Mello first came up beside him and started a conversation. However, he'd never been one much for communication and Mello still didn't up and leave; instead he had stopped his game and put in a racing game that he could play with Matt. Matt had been taken aback, to say the least.
Mello had, then, occasionally gone to bother Matt; tugging strands of his hair and asking why he shouldn't sit with Mello instead of by himself at lunch. Mello had told him he was no fun when he just looked up at the blonde and blew air in his face for his own amusement. However, he sat down next to him that day and talked to him about their lessons throughout lunch. Matt didn't much prefer the topic of choice, but he had to admit that actually having something to do during lunch was a bit more exciting than silence.
"—may begin." Roger's voice faded back into his hearing, and Matt looked up in slight confusion at what had passed. Looking at his surroundings, he saw the others reaching to grab supplies from the neat, little containers placed in the center of the table. Reaching forward, Matt began doing the same thing as he looked sideways at the blonde who pulled scissors roughly from the jar. He looked like he had woken up from the wrong side of the bed when only moments ago he looked like he had been granted a wish. Matt couldn't help the smile that tugged at the corner of his lips, it was what made him like Mello; you could never predict what he would do next and surely he would pull something you wouldn't quite expect.
Still, he wasn't quite used to walking up to someone and waving hello in big, wide gestures— something told him he'd never be. In a vain hope to stay out of the complications, he pushed people out of his life and yet somehow Mello either just didn't take the hint or chose to ignore it. A part of him acknowledged that it was probably the latter, and he pulled the glue stick from the side of the container after everyone else had gotten theirs; not out of politeness, but rather his preference to not struggle for an object as useless as a glue stick. Mello, as he noticed out of the corner of his eye, yanked a glue stick that was too loose in another's hand towards him as he tried to speed collect all the necessary utensils.
Matt sat there as Mello sorted through his construction paper and he looked sideways at the blonde when he started mumbling to himself. Letting his arms lazily point toward the floor, Matt leaned back against the chair in thought. Who was he going to do his card for? He figured Mello, for his first choice; yet a part of him was concerned if that would strengthen their friendship. Mello, although not boring, was definitely a complicated person. Matt sighed to himself, maybe Near then. After all, Near was likely to just take the card from you, look at something he found more fascinating than you and either thank you or create an awkward silence. He thought better of it and decided on Mello.
Picking up the scissors, Matt folded a dark red piece of construction paper in the middle. He sat there, holding the paper between the scissors when he decided he'd stick with black first. Picking up a black sheet from the distracted Mello's pile when he couldn't find any left in the center, Matt cut it in half. He trimmed the edges a bit more in order to make a square piece of paper and started to fold the edges. It was a small trick, but Matt figured that since he was going to be stuck here awhile he should put some effort into his work.
Bending and folding the black sheet front and back, over and under, Matt completed a black rose with a bit of difficulty in two minutes. In less time, he was able to make a few simple, grey colored leaves to nestle the black rose among. He picked up his glue stick and, upon opening it, found he had no stick left in there when it popped out and fell into his lap. Picking it up, he placed the stub back on the table and chose to borrow Mello's.
Running the stick gently over a leaf, Matt created a thin streak of glue that he sprinkled glitter over top. He moved the origami side to side in an attempt to let the light catch the leaves and dance upon it. Matt placed it down to dry as he turned towards the second sheet of black paper. Staring at it as if it would complete itself, Matt gave up and finally started cutting the flower into a square. He accidently cut the paper into a smaller rectangle and he held the paper up in his face, irked. Snipping it more, he made another square and started to create a second, smaller rose.
Matt continued the same pattern to make a leaf base and then sprinkled the blue glitter he thought would coincide when placed near the black roses. He actually liked that the second rose came out smaller and he set it down next to the first, along with its smaller leaf base.
Turning back to the red paper, Matt lifted his sleeves up to his elbows only to have one slide down halfway towards his wrist. He tried again, but when it refused to stay he ignored the sleeve. Picking up the sheet, Matt started cutting out a wide, big heart from it. He figured it was more holiday-spirited than a simple, folded, red rectangle. He breathed out and started cutting a doily heart with which to align the edges of his card properly.
Matt forced a cardstock to stay glued in the inside of the card and stood up to forcefully push the card back down over the note card. He then proceeded to tape a border of Hershey wrappers, which he cut into miniature streamers around the border of the note card. Some part of him figured he'd put the wrapper pile that Mello was stacking up at his elbow to good use. Plus, the wrappers were designed to be enticing and probably still smelled faintly of chocolate inside.
He stopped for a second and looked at Mello, who had the container of chocolates sitting in his lap. Matt guessed they were supposed to be for all of them to use in the cards and that Mello had snatched it before anyone got their hands on it. Except Near, he thought, staring at the single wrapping paper that sat at his table and seeing him shift something in his mouth with his tongue.
Matt pulled out a sparkling, red, gel pen and placed its tip against the note card. A glob of red formed and Matt furrowed an eyebrow in annoyance as he decided to make his words cursive and thus somewhat more calligraphic— as if his mistake was on purpose. He swirled and looped the pen on the page as he wrote a "Happy Valentine's Day." Deciding it needed more in terms of writing, Matt tried to think of something. The process actually irritated him more as he hated dredging up needless emotions and searching through them for a final, stable "this is how I feel." He honestly believed it was an impossible and useless task, seeing as one day you could like someone and the next day hate them.
He settled on a simple "thank you," feeling he owed that much to the blonde who went out of his way to speak with him. Matt wrote it carefully and sat back a little to let the ink dry on the page. Picking up a black rose, he ran a thumb gently over a few petals before seeking out the glue bottle in the middle of the table that they were to share. He reached for it and managed to get a hold of it a few minutes before Linda looked up for it.
Matt dripped three droplets of glue into each leaf base before dabbing the bottom of each rose with the white substance. He buried the bottom of the roses into their bases and placed the glue bottle back in the center. Linda puffed out her cheeks in aggravation that he couldn't simply hand it over, but she reached out and took it from the center of the table instead of complaining aloud. He shrugged off her anger with his lack of compliance and counted to thirty for the flower to dry in place. Picking it up, Matt looked at it and carefully found a place for it on the front of the card. He drew small circles where he intended to glue them on and took the glue back just as Linda placed it down, an action that irritated her even more.
He dabbed two droplets onto the red surface of the card and watched as the area became pink with wetness. Placing the roses over the area to cover the ugly shade of pink, Matt pulled back to stare at his handy work. He drew a heart diagonally with glue on the front of the card with the glue before replacing the bottle. Picking up the gold sprinkles, Matt dumped a good content of the bottle out over the glue and waited for that to dry too before he moved the card.
A thought occurred to him and Matt shrugged off the notion of signing the card. He figured he'd screw up the card if he bothered, so he just sat back and fiddled with his fingers for a second before reaching in his pocket for the videogame. He heard a smooch noise as he got it out and he looked up to see Linda kissing her card after having put lipstick on. Matt shook his bangs out of his eyes and flipped the cover of the paused game up instead.
"Ha!" Mello cried in satisfaction moments later, holding up what looked to Matt like the tiniest card on the planet. "Here you go, Near," he cooed, his voice dripping with the honey violence only a preteen can obtain.
Near took the card without paying much attention and placed it next to his work space, Mello smiled at Matt. "Give me a second," Near quietly replied, and Mello looked up at him in annoyance.
"What can't say 'thank you'?" Mello jeered, only to get a card held in his face. "W-What?"
"Happy Pre-Valentine's, Mello." Near said, slipping back in his chair and pulling his legs back up to rest on the seat with him. He went back to playing with his hair as Mello glared angrily at the card, possibly hoping the thing would burst into flame.
"Can you believe him?" Mello asked Matt. Matt looked up from his game and stared over at the card Near had just given Mello. The card was lovely in it's placement of string and paper that shined, retaining a pattern while also employing all aspects of creativity the children were given. Mello seethed in his seat, feeling as if he'd been shown up again and Matt took the paper card from his fingers. He, personally, was somewhat amazed that Near had copied a poem, what appeared to be word-for-word, without any sign of a book around him; probably an aspect of his memory that made him first in the orphanage.
Matt refrained from mentioning his awe at Near's capacity, however, and instead settled for nodding in response to the blonde's question. He breathed in and looked at his own card; deciding it was finished, he picked it up and let the glitter slide off the surface of the card and onto another paper he had sitting beneath it for his own mess. He wasn't much for anything, for comparing, but a part of him couldn't bring himself to hand over his card. Taking a deep breath, Matt set the card back down before standing up and picking up his used trash.
Slipping out from between the chair and the table, Matt trotted over to the trashcan to throw away the objects he carried before quietly approaching the table once more. He stood behind Mello and reached over to pick up the card from his table. Mello turned around and followed the movement, letting small, blue eyes focus on the other's face above him.
"Can we be friends?" he asked, holding out the card in front of the other.
Mello's pale hand took the card from the younger preteen's hand and opened it. His eyes quickly brushed over the red text before being directed back at Matt's face. He tried to read the emotion from the boy above him, and settled on the knowledge that it was a genuine question. A smile split across his lips and he grinned at Matt, "Of course."
Lips gently caressed his cheek and Matt let his eyes flutter close again as he snaked his arms around Mello's body. He pulled the older man to him and snuggled himself close into the layer of the black tee that, alone, adorned the blonde's body. Matt smiled within the folds of the fabric, nuzzling the collar bone that was half exposed and then placing his own kiss against the white skin. He took in a deep breathe and could smell the faint perfume of sweat mixed in with chocolate.
Thinking about it, it wasn't really much of a memory to make a claim of love; reflecting on it he didn't much feel love blossoming in the air, the chirping of birds, or all that fancy tangents. No. That was Hollywood, and this was life. His life, to be precise. And he may not have had the most romantic of beginnings, but he never asked for much from life to begin with. He never much asked for a friend, or a lover, yet here life delivered to him instead. He squeezed Mello tightly for a moment at the thought, life would move on with or without him in the end. It was just a matter of what kind of passenger you were and he was just the one along for the ride; maybe calling shotgun, but not caring if he didn't get it.
Mello buried his face into Matt's hair and remained there until he had to pull his head back in order to cover a yawn. He moved slightly in Matt's arms as he reached his arms high into the air and stretched the muscles that, only moments before, had been still with sleep. Matt couldn't help but watch the picture, wondering if his blonde lover was reaching for something in particular, something he couldn't see. He hoped not, in a way, realizing how much more complicated having an impossible goal could make life.
He pulled Mello back to him and squeezed him tightly, draping his head over the other's shoulder and turning slightly to nudge the other's neck. Mello squeaked in the surprise of the motion and Matt smiled again at how the sound easily turned into a disgruntled groan as the blonde began shedding off the last stages of sleep.
Mello looked down a little to stare at what little of Matt's face he could see while being held against the other man. He pushed against Matt a bit, and the younger man let the other free himself from his body, but not before he got to place his lips against the other's cheek. He let his hands linger from Mello's shoulder blade to his back and along his lower side as Mello slowly wandered out of his grasp.
"You're up early," Mello grunted, rubbing at his eyes to physically remove the last remainders of the night. He blinked a few times to clear his eyesight and then leaned against the open refrigerator as the chill from the appliance ran over his bare legs gently.
"When am I not?" Matt answered, without much thought as he watched Mello shuffle a few items in the fridge. Mello looked up from the contents of the fridge and stared at the somewhat enraptured brunette; he shook his head slightly and went back to rummaging through the fridge.
"Pretty much everyday." Mello shrugged, tilting his head a little in the smooth motion of his shoulders, "Either you go to bed later and wake up later as a result, or you stay up all night playing with your videogames. You usually don't go to bed with me and then wake up before me too."Matt spun on the bottom of his heel and felt his hair lift and fall with the motion. He caught Mello's gaze from over his shoulder and he couldn't help smiling at the semi-confusion that aligned the other's sight. He rapped his knuckles on the wooden, kitchen counter twice before proceeding to walk out of the room. Before turning the corner, his fingers wrapped around the pack of cigarettes and dragged them away with him on his way out. Mello watched him leave.
Turning back to the fridge, Mello reluctantly wrapped his hands around a jug of milk three days near its expiration. He turned it in his hand and thought how much of a waste it was that it was nearly half full still. Mello placed the jug on the counter as he mumbled complaints on aging milk and how he was probably going to regret using it. He opened the long cupboard and pulled out a fallen cereal box of cornflakes littered with chunks of chocolate.
Still holding the cereal, Mello pulled open the cupboard and pulled out a bowl to fill with his breakfast. He listened to the little clink they made drown out the sounds of the computers whir and the click of keys in the next room. When he was satisfied with the amount in the bowl, Mello pulled a small piece of chocolate out of the box and stuck it in his mouth before putting the cereal box back. Mello then proceeded to pour milk over the food as the chocolate piece slowly dissolved in his mouth.
He moved the bowl onto the stove and hopped up onto the area where it had been. Picking up the bowl, Mello reached over slightly to grab a plastic spoon from a cup they were using as a container for utensils. Dipping it into the bowl, Mello mechanically dumped the food into his mouth and started chewing as he watched the man, freshly clad in blue jeans, in the other room.
From his distance, he couldn't quite tell what the other was up to, but the black screen with white text told him that Matt was busy. He was certain it was probably making a new bug that he could use to protect their data and, upon hacking, could corrupt their files in a method Matt could fix and send a virus to the attacker. Mello was positive that the Japanese Task Force that the second "L" was working on and Near's S.P.K. had some sort of defense provided to their files. However, Mello and Matt were working alone and didn't have the kind of resources of the police department, a world-renowned country, or L to buy such a system. Mello figured since Matt was bored of the repetition that he could put him to use in making them one; seeing as making one also meant that their defense was not known or on the market.
Mello stared at the dishes in the sink, letting the breeze from the window drift in with the rise of a bird's song. He turned around and looked out the window to see if he could find it as he fished for a chocolate piece in the cereal with his fingers. After failing to do so, he turned around and looked towards the empty sink. Somehow it was an odd sight to him, knowing full well that neither Mello nor Matt had time to clean dishes. Yet he could vaguely remember being in the kitchens at Wammy's and seeing the dishes in the sink; sometimes he'd watch from his corner as the kitchen cook slowly removed them from their depth.
As Mello finished fishing out what he was positive was the last piece of chocolate in his cereal, something brown and red caught his attention. Mello dropped his gaze towards it and looked at the chocolate bar with a bit of puzzlement that quickly subsided. Sliding off the counter, he placed the small, Styrofoam bowl on the center of the stove before moving over towards the chocolate bar. Plucking it off the counter, Mello found it slightly entertaining that he had been thinking about a chocolate bar when he had noticed the thing. It almost made him wonder if he were still in bed, tangled in the thin, white covers.
He quickly read the scrawled words and symbols of Matt's professed love before sinking teeth into the brown treat. Leaning his back against the counter where he found it, Mello looked out the open window as the smell of chocolate drifted to his nose as he lifted it for another bite. He remembered hearing multiple reasons for why it rained and where thunder came from when he was a kid. One of the explanations that stuck was that the angels were bowling; the other was that the Lord was upset or angry.
Mello snapped off another piece of chocolate and crunched it in amusement as the red frosting oozed in his mouth. He was surprised then that, by that logic, the skies were not always dapped grey, littered with clouds puffed in an angry black that poured constantly, in an attempt to drown the world. He snapped off another bite of chocolate and the red heart broke, sending little droplets that fell onto his bare feet. Mello looked down in surprise at the touch. Lifting his foot, he wiped the three droplets from off his skin and stuck his finger in his mouth to suck the substance off.
Moving closer to the window in thought, Mello couldn't help but noticed they needed heaven not hell and salvation not damnation. He moved a few strands of his bangs out of his eyes with the finger that had previously been in his mouth. It was gorgeous out there today, so maybe that was supposed to be a sign of something. Mello doubted it greatly, but it didn't hurt if he gave himself something inconsequential to think on.
Taking in a deep breath, Mello let the crisp air soothe his lungs from the all too familiar cigarette and chocolate that clung to their atmosphere. Normally, the scent he associated with his current location was his form of incense, but there comes times when the clock just needs to slow down and let life through. He missed those days sometimes, the days when they were kids and they had time. It didn't seem like it then, what with the studying and everything, but they really did have all the time in the world then. Everyday now was like a dastardly tango with Kira, a game of cat and mouse that set the blood running and the heart racing to know it's alive. Nothing like this case could make someone feel like they had a time bomb strapped around their throat. He breathed in deeply again and wondered if L had ever felt like this when he was still on the case, when the bomb was still just ticking.
He turned around and looked over his shoulder, sitting on his legs on the counter like some child who had gotten up there for the cookie jar. Mello watched as Matt bent down to make sure the monitors were still recording the proceedings of Light Yagami's and Misa Amane's home before proceeding to pick an old shirt off the floor, hold it up to his nose, and decide it was okay to slip over his head. They had stopped paying much attention to the household after a month because the blonde girl had become too much. Over the past few weeks neither of them noticed any suspicious activities from her and the eldest Yagami offspring had never shown up. The only reason they still had the place bugged was because Mello didn't want the off chance that Light did show up at his home and did something to incriminate himself. Although… Matt had a valid argument that the bugs might become discovered by her newest roommate, Mogi. Mello watched the brunette sit down and lazily followed the trail of smoke that curled in the air above his head.
He turned back towards the window, watching a blue breasted bird swoop through the air in a mid spin to land haphazardly in a tree a distance away. Mello cocked his head to both sides to crack his neck before moving closer to look down over the edge of window sill. He could better see the grass on the empty lawn from here. Mello half missed being able to watch people scurrying by busily, but he knew his choice on the location of their apartment facing away from the road and people was a better one. After all, if Kira could kill with knowing a person's name and their face he felt he should carefully guard both aspects for as long as he could.
Wrapping his fingers around the edge of the window, Mello forced it to slide open a little farther. He stuck the last piece of chocolate on his lips and pulled it in with his tongue as he leaned his head out the window. Perhaps Matt and him could take a day off, he thought wishfully. It had been so long since they had been able to do as they pleased that he couldn't help the little tangent. At least, he hadn't been able to. Matt tended to find space for himself in between the boring, droll moments of their investigation, but the brunette also had a strong distaste for being outside. Mello was probably the only one who actually missed being able to go outside and do what you pleased. He sighed. Matt would probably follow him though if he requested it.
He turned and looked over his shoulder; it wasn't like he himself was doing anything at the current moment and Matt seemed to be in a more social mood, he thought. After all, he'd decorated the chocolate bar with red frosting which he took as an unmistakable sign of the other's rare needs for social interactions.
"Matt?" he called, but his voice cracked from the lack of use and he was sure Matt hadn't been able to hear the near-silent call for him. He silently condemned the cold that restrained him and cleared his throat with two simple, short coughs.
"Yeah." Matt stated just as Mello went to repeat the man's name louder.
He remained quiet for a few seconds, pretending that he could hear the words diffuse through the distance only to die on the air anyway, "Want to go out on a walk today?"
"With your cold?" Matt started, barely turning his gaze towards Mello before his eyes fell back to watching the monitor as he typed in the coding for the virus.
Mello somewhat tensed in annoyance at the suggestion, but he refrained from jumping down Matt's throat for the concern. It was normal for his best friend, and his lover, to be a tad worried over the fact that Mello was ill and needed to get better. He should probably be more insulted if Matt didn't care, he thought, knowing full well that he wouldn't have noticed if it was absent. Mello just sort of wished Matt would make it easier and just agree to go with him.
"I'll wear a jacket." He promised, sitting down correctly on the counter with his feet dangling over the edge. Tapping his feet gently against the cupboard that made up the counter, Mello watched his feet as they moved through the air.
Matt wandered into the kitchen and leaned against the frame of the doorway. He watched as Mello's legs flew into the air silently, almost effortlessly to land with a loud thunk against the cupboard door. The door bounced slightly with the impact and landed with a click as Mello's legs rose quietly again. He wandered up to Mello and caught the legs as they finished their upward ascent. Mello looked at him with a bit of surprise and Matt slid himself in between the other's legs.
"I hope you plan on going out in more than just your jacket." He teased.
"No," Mello smiled wrily, wrapping his arms around the brunette's neck and feeling short strands of hair tickle at his arms, "Just the jacket."
Matt shook his head, but he grinned at Mello all the same. Mello wrapped his legs around him and Matt pulled him off the counter top and into his arms. Shifting his legs a bit to balance the new additional weight, Matt moved his head to let Mello rest the scarred side of his face onto his shoulder. He nuzzled the blonde hair and spoke softly before nipping Mello's ear, "Let's go get your jacket. You can parade around the hideout in nothing but a jacket some other time."
Mello extended his legs and Matt sloppily let him down to the floor, holding onto his middle to make sure the blonde had a good hold of himself before letting go. Holding onto Matt's upper arms, Mello quickly regained his footing and moved forward to peck the helpful man on the cheek. He let his fingers linger on Matt's lips before turning to walk away. Mello stopped at the doorway and turned around to blow a playful kiss over his shoulder as a "thank you" for the breakfast treat, knowing full well that the gesture was up to Matt's interpretation.
"Well, hurry up," Matt grinned wider still at the blonde's notion, "We may just have today to live and let die."
It sounded like the perfect plan to him.
Please R & R. I could really use feedback on this story.