IT'S LONG BUT READ: Okay, new story time! Matt/Mello. I know this plot is kind of overused, BUT with each take on it comes a unique story with interesting pasts, plotlines, et cetera.
Basic summary: Mail Jeevas, now known as Matt Carters, has moved with his family to Winchester, England to escape the cruelty that haunts them. The basic rule is: lie low, don't make close ties. But what happens when what Matt's been running from catches up to him? Just when the darkness seems to come crashing down around him, Matt may have found his light. What if he meets one person that he just can't resist? AU.
Wow, cheesy summary… bad, too. But I actually labored over the wording with that one.
DISCLAIMER: I'll say this once: No, I don't own the amazing, fantastical, wondersometastic anime/manga that we know as Death Note. If I did I wouldn't be writing for Fanfiction, and L/Light and Matt/Mello would NOT be fan made. Also I would be filthy rich.
To anyone who hasn't read my other stuff: I tend to listen to Backstreet Boys whilst writing (I always do, it never fails) so if the characters suddenly act all weird and angsty or OOC it's probably me listening to some A) sad song or B) some song that "totally fits the moment!" (It probably doesn't.)
SORRY! If you're still reading my thoughts, then thank you.
ALSO IMPORTANT: somewhat depressed, slightly suicidal Matt (Cloudy, just say it all in one word: Emo. God.) ALSO there IS child abuse in this story, okay? Also, language and male/male romance. No smut, because I can tell you now I am far too scared to write that, and it would be really, really bad. Plus my parents have access to this computer. *Shudders* If they found some of the stuff I read, I would have my hands chopped off. No, just kidding. But they'd be all like… O.e my child likes gay couples? Okay… (They won't understand the magic.)
NO I'm not like super young (creepy pervert, I know you're there). I am perfectly capable of watching PG movies BY MY SELF and I can use a KNIFE! Oh, also I know SWEAR WORDS! I'm so fucking badass.
One last thing (I know, I know.) Schooling systems are different in England than in America, where I live. I have the Internet to provide me with answers, but I will make weird mistakes. Also things are very different language wise in England, and I'm doing my best. Please go with it.
Please read now, and accept my apologies for making you read all that!
Matt POV
"Remember, your name is Matt Carters now, okay?" I nod, watching blankly as the smoke from my cigarette swirls into the air and dissipates.
"And you," Mother turns to Mari, my older cousin and aspiring model, "Are Misa."
She squeals. "Misa-Misa! Oh, it's so cute!"
My Mother is a frail woman. Her hair is greying and thin, and her skin hangs off her bones in a sickly manner. Of course, every bone in my body is just as prominent.
Mari, now known as Misa, is a ditz. The blonde, heavily make-upped girl is so stereotypical of a model, even blondes in generally, it's ridiculous. She has the intelligence of a fruit, and is flirt level nine thousand. Despite how utterly annoying she is, she is my cousin, and I care about her.
She's had her fair share of horrors, just like Mother and me. We were Mari's only family after her parents disowned her because she was a "total disgrace and a slut", not that we were any better.
I'm surprised we managed to get here. I can still feel the marks burning under my clothes, the discolorations that are scattered across my arms and shoulders, and a little while ago, my jaw. I subconsciously rub the spot, and I can still feel the jarring sensation of a drunken fist colliding with my face.
"Matt, can you please not smoke inside? If you aren't going to stop soon, I'm going to confiscate them."
"Sorry," I grumble, snuffing out the "cancer stick", as Mother calls them. "I'm working on it, alright?"
"I know," she sighs, her head in her hands, hunched in her seat at our second-hand dining table. Our new house is tiny, but nice enough to be socially acceptable. It's not Mother's fault that we are pretty much dirt poor.
"Listen, you two. We are in no way safe here, not yet. We absolutely have to lie low, and we may have to pick up and leave at any time. Because of this, we all need to try to avoid close relationships with anyone, okay? Just try not to draw attention to yourselves and no matter what, do not tell anyone who you really are, or why you're here, okay? Please promise me this." Her tired eyes are pleading, and I find myself without options.
"Of course," I say, and "Misa" nods grimly, sobered only by this.
"We promise. We both understand exactly why were here, and exactly what we have to do, Charlotte." My mother's real name is Hannah, but that was back in the states.
"Thank you," she replies earnestly. "Now, you remember our story, right?"
"Yeah, we moved here because your mother's house was left to you," Misa says before I can even open my mouth. I nod.
"And your father?"
"He left before we were even born," I say somewhat robotically.
"And you and Misa are…?"
"Siblings," we say in unison.
She nods. "If we manage to hide for a few months, we should be safe, so just hold tight for a while."
I nod, running a hand through my hair. I hate this. I would rather be here than there, but why did we have to come all the way to England? Our accents will give us away immediately. But then, will he really come all the way out here just to find us? I wouldn't put it past him.
I will have to work now. Back in Seattle, Washington, I did odd jobs for the neighbors and such, but I didn't have a steady job. I hope I can get something related to technology, and hopefully nothing where I have to talk to people a lot. I don't like socializing very much. I've never had luck with people, which is why I prefer to immerse myself in video games and interact with little programmed people made of pixels.
I don't mind that I can't really make friends here. Not that I had any back home. I doubt anyone will want to be friends with the shy gamer that I am. I tend to fuck things up.
Misa sighs dramatically. "I suppose this means I can't keep modeling, then! Oh, at this rate I'll never get singing!" Misa, Mari, whatever, has a good voice that we know people would be interested in, and her looks are unquestionable. But at our current position, she can't continue. Dad only allowed her to model because it led to money.
Mother looks torn. We need the money it provides, but before we left her image was gaining popularity very quickly, and if it continues she'll probably be know worldwide some day. And therein lies the problem.
"I'm sorry, Misa, but no. Not for a few years, at least. Give it two years, and if he hasn't come after us, then we'll talk about things like that," Mother says after some thought.
Misa sighs again, her tone and appearance showing her disappointment for all to see. Modeling and singing are her passions, but even an air head like her understands the circumstances.
"You two start school on Monday. I know it's inconvenient to start five weeks after the year has already started, but it can't be helped. As long as you two keep your grades at average, it should be fine." I'm really starting to feel trapped here. Do we really have to stay so low that we have to erase our identities and replace them with the standard level of "normal?"
I'm not normal. There's so much that makes me fucked up it's impossible to name them all. I'm hoping that maybe, now that we're starting over I'll be able to fix myself. But the idea of that is slowly being crushed.
It's probably pointless, anyway. I'm probably a lost cause. And then there's the fact that as much as we want to fool ourselves into thinking so, we are not safe. We haven't yet rid ourselves of the corrupted, sick bastard I have the luck to call my father.
I hope he gets a nail driven into both eye sockets, and a bullet shot up his ass before he's left to bleed to death. He deserves it. Some people really do deserve to die long, painful, suffering deaths, and my dad is one of them.
Mother gets up slowly and pads over to the tiny kitchen sink. I get up and walk through a doorway into the living room, which leads to a short hall that branches off in a bathroom and two bedrooms. Misa and Mother are sharing the master bedroom; I thankfully get the small one to myself. Everything in this house is small. I don't mind, really. We have electricity, water, heating, albeit crappy, and a basement. The basement kind of seems like a sad afterthought added to the house because there is all of one storage closet above ground. A single bulb lights the tiny, cold cement floored room below, but it works.
I slip into the back yard, which is about sixteen square feet of grass and a tree, and pull my lighter and another cig out of my pocket. I know Mother wants me to stop, but I've done these since I was seven, thanks to my dad, and now I'm sixteen. Nine years I've smoked. And in all honesty, if I get cancer, no one will really care. Sure, Mother and Misa will miss me, but it'll mean one less mouth to feed, one less person to worry about. They can provide for just them without me.
No one would care if one day my heart stopped beating.
He would probably be happy.
. . .
"God, this is going to be so fun," I mutter sarcastically as we walk into the school building, my orange goggles pushed up into my reddish-brown hair. Misa rolls her eyes, walking beside me on the way to the office.
"Matt, can't you try to be positive? We've come so far, it won't be long before we're safe once and for all!"
"Keep your voice down!" I hiss as we walk past a group of junkies.
"Sorry," she whines. "Just be nice to people, okay? This is our chance to make friends."
"We aren't supposed to get close to people," I remind her.
She pouts. "You could at least try socializing."
I shake my head. "No, I'm not good with that."
She sighs, but doesn't press on because we've reached the office. I push the door open and walk in, not bothering to hold it for Misa. I let her walk up to the secretary, Ms. Chen's desk, though. She can do the talking.
"Hello!" she says cheerily. The old, kind-looking woman looks up.
"Oh, hello dears!" her accent is heavy. "You are…?"
"We're the new students from America," Misa says, still smiling.
"Oh, of course! Well, I'd better give you your schedules." She pronounces "schedule" differently than in America.
"You must be Misa, and Matt, right?" We both nod, and I stick my hands in the pockets of my vest.
"Right, here's a map of the school, and on the back are your schedules. Misa, you'll be going to Mrs. Kane's language arts first…Misa, you are grade twelve and Matt eleven, yes?"
I nod. Misa's only older than me by about a year, but she makes it out to be a far greater gap. I have no idea how Misa has made it to twelfth grade with her intelligence level, but some mysteries really do have no answer.
"Matt, you'll be going to Mr. Crosby's room. Do either of you need help finding your way around?"
"I'll be fine," I inform her, "But I think Misa might need some help. She's a bit forgetful."
Misa throws me an angry glance before laughing self-consciously.
"Yeah, I am," she admits.
"That's not a problem, I can easily get someone to help you. Just a moment, dears." She gets up and hobbles through a door into the back rooms of the office. It isn't long before she comes back out with a brunette boy, about Misa's age if not a little older, watching us with almost golden eyes.
"This is Light Yagami," Ms. Chen says his name with a kind of reverence. This guy is obviously a big shot with the teachers, and probably with the students too.
I can practically feel Misa about to explode next to me.
"Misa, he will can guide you around the school. Please, both of you feel free to ask him any questions about the school you have."
"It's a pleasure to meet you," Light says, his voice smooth and cordial. Definitely a popular guy.
I glance at Misa, and am unsurprised to find her ogling with wide eyes and blush creeping across her face.
"Hi," she says somewhat breathlessly. "I'm Ma-Misa." I growl inwardly as she stumbles over her name. Light smiles at her, but I can see that he knows exactly what kind of girl she is and what she's thinking.
Misa is a massive flirt, as well as a clingy one. She doesn't know when to stop, and she will not stop until she gets what she wants. And she obviously wants this attractive Light guy.
I roll my eyes and pocket my schedule. I've already memorized it, and this school is easy to navigate.
"Thanks, but I'm good. Misa, I'm going now."
"Okay, bye-bye Matt! So, Light! Can you please show me where everything is? I have a feeling I'm going to get lost!" I close the door on her giggling, and feel kind of sorry for Light. My cousin is difficult sometimes.
Only Misa is my sister here. Mari is my cousin. And I am Matt, not Mail. I realized that I'm going to be living two lives; one as a shy gamer who gets normal grades and is practically a nobody, and another as the relatively depressed gamer who could probably pass most of the tests he's going to take before he even starts school, who is also only here to hide from a psycho drug-addict, alcoholic parent.
Matt the nobody is going to be prominent, because I don't have much of a choice. I have to practically give up who I really am for our safety.
Of course, no one really cared or cares about who I really am. I'm just that one antisocial guy who fucks things up and can't do anything to fix his screwed up life.
Oh well, I've learned to live with it. Hell, I grew up with it.
I find my classroom easily, and just sit against the wall in a shadow, focusing on my muted Gameboy. I bring my games everywhere I go; I practically live in them.
When I was little, games were my escape. They still are, really. I would play them at night instead of sleeping, because the nightmares were so bad. Every once in a while I still get them, but it's not so much a problem as it used to be.
"You're new," comes a low monotone of a voice, stating, not questioning. I look up at the pale boy standing in front of me. He has practically white hair and dark eyes, wearing a casual white-button up shirt and jeans.
"Yeah," I reply before returning my attention back to rescuing Zelda.
"What's your name?" he asks.
"Matt."
"Nate." I don't look up at him, but I nod once. "But I prefer Near."
I nod again, walking Link around in a circle out of boredom.
"What state are you from?"
"Washington." This Near guy isn't overly annoying, and he seems at least a bit intelligent, judging by his observation skills. At least he isn't pretending to instantly like me. He doesn't talk to me again, but he stands by the door, fiddling with a few Legos.
"Near!" someone calls, and I hear footsteps running over. I look up and see a girl with her wild blonde hair held back with a number of pins and a hair tie. She clutches her binder to her chest, biting her lip somewhat nervously.
The only reaction Near gives her is a blink. She seems to take this as a suitable answer, and holds up her binder.
"I know you don't like this, but I really need help. See, I don't get the lesson we learned Friday, and I know that we're having a test on it today! I studied over the weekend, but I really don't get it. I'm so bad at maths," she explains in a hurried voice. She smiles meekly. "Do you think you could help me again?"
Near tilts his head, looking up. "I suppose. What don't you get?" She smiles with relief and pulls a paper from her binder, gesturing at different parts of it and going into detail about what she can do and what is driving her "bloody crazy".
Within a few minuets she's thanking Near and running off to meet her impatiently waiting friends by the water fountain. I continue moving Link through the land of Hyrule, quickly checking the time on my phone. I wonder how far Misa's gotten in fifteen minutes. We got here about twenty-five minutes early, although I would have liked to stay home a bit longer. I'm not too much of a morning person.
The other students in my first period, science, are starting to show up. I watch them out my peripheral vision, noting that the school has a decent mix of ethnicities.
"Hey, who's that kid over there? He new?"
Great, the attention I don't want.
"Yeah, he's new. I definitely haven't seen him around."
"He's kind of cute!" God, girls are so annoying.
"Goggles? Stripes? Really?"
"He's not even acknowledging us."
Leave me alone, I groan inwardly as a pair of girls in miniskirts and furry boots walk over to me.
"Hi!" the one on the right smiles, pulling her dark hair to one side of her head.
"What's your name?" say the girl on the left, who looks strikingly similar to the other. They must be sisters, if not twins.
"Matt."
"I'm Cassie," say the girl on the left. I can see that they have different colored eyes. Cassie has brown and her sister has hazel.
"I'm Rachel. Are you from America?"
"Yeah."
She flashes another white smile. "Do you need help finding your way around?"
"Nah, I'm good, thanks."
She seems disappointed. "Are you sure? Do you know anyone here?"
"Just my sister."
"Who's she?" Asks a guy with messy sandy hair, joining in on the conversation.
"Her name's Misa, but I'm pretty sure she's interested in the guy who's showing her around… What was his name? Light or something." Guys were always interested in Mari's looks, and I suppose it'll be no different for Misa. The boy seems to loose his interest, muttering something about how all the new girls seem to get caught before he can meet them.
"Bugger it," he mutters, retreating back into the small mod of students.
"Misa… Oh, I saw her earlier! Yeah, she was practically attached to Light. I don't think she's very interested in learning her way around," some other guy muses, earning some laughs. I try to drown them out and focus on my game. The Cassie and Rachel are chatting with some of their other friends, so I'm left alone for the moment.
The bell rings, and I'm forced to turn my game off. Teachers don't seem to understand that I can do just fine in class, even if I'm gaming. I took some test when I was younger that proved I was technically a genius, but it's not like that changed anything.
I slip into the classroom last, pocketing my Gameboy. I go to the back of the room where there are a few unclaimed seats and sit in the closet seat to the corner. Mr. Crosby is a young man with glasses and a very unique tie with bananas and monkeys on it.
He glances around the class, frowning slightly. His eyes finally fall on me, and his frown disappears.
"Ah, you in the back, you're Matt Carters, right?"
"Yeah," I nod, wishing that the entire class, excepting Near, hadn't turned around in their seats to look at me. I can feel the girls who hadn't had a good look at me before running me down with their eyes.
I really don't like girls. They tend to be very fake and obnoxious.
Mr. Crosby walks back with a small packet of papers. "I need you to fill all of these out and turn them in by Friday. It's just the basic information we need on students, as well as a quick assessment to see what you already know, as well as a class syllabus. You can work on that now, because the class is taking a quiz that you haven't been prepared for yet."
I accept the packet and pull a pen out of my backpack without a word. He returns to the front of the class and begins instructing them on what to do.
I look through the stuff, filling out the info like my address and guardian name without much thought. All I need is a signature, and that will be taken care of. I turn my attention to the "assessment" in the back of the packet. It's a three-page multiple-choice test, and it is painfully easy. Although science isn't my best subject, I spent a good two years of my early childhood reading textbooks, because then I thought if I could please people by doing something right, my problems would start to go away. They didn't, but I ended up ready to skip a few grades by the time I took the gifted test.
I know almost all the answers to these questions. I should just go with the answer I know is correct, but Mother said to keep a low profile. Not to draw attention. If I get the grades I would normally receive, and let the fact that I'm not some idiot smoker rotting his brain out with video games be proven absolutely, one hundred percent wrong, I would be drawing attention to myself.
So I answer about half of them correctly, the easy ones that everyone knows, and let myself get the difficult ones that people just starting shouldn't know. I get what would be considered "average".
And I'm done in about fifteen minuets, before anyone is done with the quiz. Except Near, however.
I pull my Gameboy out and start playing under the desk, thankful that Mr. Crosby doesn't look back in this corner very much.
. . .
Misa's sociality is insane. She already has people to eat with, meaning that I do too. I would probably sit alone in a corner, but Misa dragged me over to her new table, where Light was of course sitting. Apparently Light's friends consist of Near, a pair of odd-looking twins named Lawliet and Beyond, as he had said he wanted to be called. There are differences in them, but they look more or less the same. Lawliet has darker circles under his eyes than Beyond, though, and has worse posture. They seem to have their own food preferences. Lawliet has a bunch of sugary crap, and Beyond seems content with a jar of strawberry jam. And from what I've noticed, Beyond seems to have a wicked side.
Lawliet is pretty much quiet, but he watches me curiously with wide grey eyes. He reminds me a bit of Near, which makes sense because they claim to be cousins.
"I wonder where Mello went off to this time?" Light sighs. Beyond grins evilly.
"He's probably beating up some eighth grader for looking at him the wrong way."
"Probably," Lawliet agrees in a similar monotone to Near's.
"Hi Light!" says a girl who looks strikingly similar to the boy sitting beside Misa.
"Hey, Sayu. What is it?"
Sayu smiles. "I just came over to say hi to my brother and his nerd friends! Who are the newcomers?" she looks at Misa and me. I glance at her before returning to my game. My sandwich lies barely touched in front of me.
"Matt and Misa. They're new here," Light explains.
"I wouldn't say Misa belongs with the 'nerd group,'" I mutter, and Misa pouts, her expression earning some laughs from the others. Well, Lawliet smiles slightly and Near just watches blankly.
Sayu giggles. "Don't worry, Misa. They need a girl here, anyway. And it's nice to meet you, Matt!" she winks at us before rejoining her group of gossiping girls.
"Is she your sister?" Misa asks Light.
He nods. "She's in ninth grade."
"Well, you're right Matt, I guess I don't belong with the smart guys," Misa says grudgingly. "But you do at least!"
I glare at her. Mari… What are you doing?
"No I don't."
"Yes you do! You practically aced that test thing you took when you were younger, and you-"
"Misa," I warn her, and she shuts up, realizing that she's saying too much.
She smiles after a moment. "Whatever, Matt. You're smart no matter what you say."
I just ignore her, focusing on getting Mario to the next level. I've already beaten the game four times, but it never gets old for me. It isn't long before I decide that I've had enough of the lunch scene and I get up to leave.
"Matt, where are you going?" Misa asks, looking up at me.
"Dunno, but I'm done so…" I shrug and walk over to the trash, slipping my game into my pocket so I don't walk into anyone. I'm pretty good at multitasking, but the school is a new place.
I walk out of the cafeteria and head to my locker. I head down the halls and finally get to it. This school is too damn big, I grumble to myself. I'm about to enter my combination in when I hear footsteps and someone calls out,
"Hey, gamer boy! Yeah, you the new kid!" I look towards the voice and wish I could just disappear. A gang of four guys in sagging jeans and sweatshirts or loose t-shirts stalks towards me. In a few seconds I'm surrounded by them, and I can see each of them has some form of jewelry, whether a chain or earrings or such.
"What do you want?" I sigh, turning around and facing them, leaning against the lockers and wishing I had a cigarette. I'm not used to having to go a whole day without one.
The biggest one, obviously the leader, jeers at me. "Don't be all cool with us, stripes. We think you need to know how things work at our school."
"I honestly don't give a fuck how things 'work at your school'," I snap. They're getting a bit close, and I don't like it. I don't like it when people get all close around me like this. I don't like feeling trapped.
"I think you need some respect. Don't know how things are back in America, but here you aren't anyone important, got that?" The leader snarls in my face.
"I never said I was." I attempt to slip around him, but one of the other boys steps in front of me, sneering.
"I don't think he gets it, Kevin," he jeers.
"You're right. We should teach him," Kevin agrees, then nods his head once. In an instant the other guy standing behind him, the one with a buzz cut, comes forward and slams me back against the lockers, lifting me up by the front of my clothes so that my heels are off the ground. I hiss in both pain and surprise, sending a kick at him. My sleeves have ridden up a bit, almost exposing the nearly faded marks. Almost exposing marks that will never fade completely.
I don't like being touched, and now I'm being held against my will. Panic tinges the edges of my thoughts, and I struggle to get away from them. Buzz cut's fists dig into my chest, pushing me into the lockers and probably giving me another set of bruises.
My nails dig into his hands and I send another kick his way, this time colliding with his shin. He winces, his grip loosening slightly, but the two on the side grab my wrists. I wince at this, and suddenly I feel my panic rising. This is a familiar scene for me. This is too familiar. I can't fight back, and I'm trapped. I snarl, bringing my knee up in attempt to shove buzz cut in the stomach. All I can really do is kick, though. I'm not very strong.
Suddenly the weight is ripped off my chest and my feet hit the floor again. My wrists are freed with the momentum, and I cringe into the lockers, watching with wide eyes as buzz cut is shoved to the floor and the two others are yanked by their hair. Within a few moments, the four gang members are away from me, forcibly removed by a slightly feminine, though obviously male, blonde.
The blonde's icy blue eyes are narrowed angrily, and he looks ready to kill someone. Even Kevin looks worried at the newcomer, who scowls at him.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" the blonde snarls, jerking the boys by their hair, earning a whimper from each of them. Buzz cut is sitting up, rubbing his shoulder and glowering at the blonde.
"What does it look like we were doing?" Kevin grumbles.
"Like you were about to beat this kid fucking senseless! That's my job, damn it! Since when do you go around pounding the new kids, huh Kevin? I didn't think you were this damn pathetic!" he lets go of the two boys' hair and glances at me. I haven't moved from my spot on the floor in front of the lockers, sitting with my knees bent and my arms pulled close to my chest. This position is also familiar, except usually I'd be hiding in some forgotten corner of the house, hoping to stay unnoticed.
His attention returns to the gang, kicking the guy to his right when he tries to get up and glaring around. "You got me on a bad day, you know! You're lucky I don't kill you all just because I don't have any fucking chocolate left!"
"Sorry, Mello," Kevin mutters, looking down irritably. Mello? Didn't Light say something about him? Mello was missing when we were eating.
"Just scram," Mello hisses, and they don't hesitate to heed his orders, glancing at me as they leave. I watch them leave, blinking a few times to clear my head.
"Hey, are you alright?" I just now realize that Mello's accent isn't really British. It sounds faintly Russian, as far as I can place it, and maybe a little American. It's definitely a mix, meaning he's probably been places.
"Uh, yeah," I mutter, getting to my feet. Mello is a little taller than me, maybe and inch or two. "Thanks," I meet his eyes for a second. He still looks mad, but his anger doesn't seem directed at anyone in particular. His eyes are actually really blue. It's kind of surprising.
"No problem. There all idiots anyway." He fixes the collar of his black jacket, which got twisted somehow. He's wearing pretty much all black: black skinny jeans, black jacket, and a white shirt just peeking out from the top of his jacket where the zipper is down a little. I notice a glimmer of red and black beads around his neck, but Mello's shoulder length hair covers them. He's attractive, in all honesty.
"I can't believe them," he grumbles to himself, glancing at me again. I realize I was still watching him, and I quickly look away. I honestly don't know what to make of Mello.
"Do you have any idea why they decided to go after you? They usually stick to the youngest kids," Mello questions after a moment. I laugh once, no humor in my tone.
"Because, I'm weak. I make the perfect target," I answer him. "'Intelligent' or not, when it comes down to it, I make an ideal punching bag." For twisted drunken smokers and kids alike.
Mello crosses his arms. "You speak from experience," he observes. Much like Near, it is not a question. It's a statement.
"Yeah," I mumble bitterly.
"What's your name?"
"Matt." Now we're back to the typical new-kid interrogations. Oh well.
To my surprise, he doesn't say anything else, just watches me curiously. I remember what I was here to do and turn back to my locker, opening it easily and tossing the crap from the earlier classes in my locker. When I shut it and face him again, he's digging through his backpack.
"Fuck it," he mutters.
"What?"
"I'm out of chocolate again." He throws his backpack over his shoulder again, looking extremely put off.
I can't help but smirk a little. "Chocolate?"
"Haven't you ever had some? It's like a drug!"
"I can relate."
"What do you have next?"
"Math… Miss. Norman." He scowls.
"Same. So does the sheep."
"The sheep?"
"Near," he says the name like it's a piece of rotten food. "Fucking little suck up."
"Is he?" We start walking now, heading towards the classroom as more and more people start appearing in the halls. I notice that a lot of them are staring at the two of us as we walk past, but I ignore it.
"Yes. Always ahead by half a point, less sometimes! The only person who bests him is Lawliet, but even then…" he mutters something about little albino brats under his breath.
"That explains why people are constantly going up to him with their math homework," I muse.
Mello nods, glaring at two guys staring openly at us, mouths open. "It's not like I have two heads or something," he snaps. They quickly turn away, mumbling what sounds like an apology. As we walk, I notice a slight ache forming in my back where I was slammed into the lockers. I push it to the back of my mind, not wanting to dwell on it.
For some reason I find Mello very… interesting. He's different than the other people I've met, although some of them are very unique. We talk a little outside of the classroom, and I find myself liking him. He's fierce and seemingly cold, but I think there's more to him than that.
Maybe I'll be lucky enough to find out, if I can stick around long enough that is.
Long chapter, not all of them will be this long. I think, maybe. This is just the beginning, and all introductory chapters are a bit different than the rest of the story. Also, yes, Matt is a bit OOC but he kind of has to be.
I haven't actually read the story with Beyond and stuff (What's it called, Los Angeles: BB Murder Case or something?), but I figured I'd put him in the story for kicks. He's a very minor character.
Please R&R! Reviews inspire faster updates and more romance!
I am perfecting my creepy Ryuk laugh: Kyah kyah kyahhh!