Of Needles and Thread
There was a new boy at Wammy's.
Mello licked the corner of his chocolate bar thoughtfully, eyes roaming around his room, wondering whether this was a good thing or not. Wammy's Orphanage for Gifted Children seldom got new children - it wasn't every day that an orphan was a genius. And what with everyone scared of him already, the new kid could be Mello's fresh face to torture and further harass. Yes, that sounded nice to the blond's ears.
Then again, that would mean another kid who'd learn to stay away from him. As much as he liked flying solo, it got a little lonely sometimes in his room...
What was he thinking? Mello, fearsome, tough Mello (second to Near, he added bitterly) didn't need any friends! They...demanded too much attention and would distract him from his studies. Yes.
Satisfied with his decision, the nine-year-old hopped off from his bed, and with bare feet, made his way down to the dining room. Surprisingly, most of the other orphans were there already, as opposed to the slow Saturday mornings when everyone had just spent the previous night staying up.
Mello grabbed three chocolate muffins the size of his fist, a slice of chocolate cake, a carton of chocolate milk, loaded them all onto his tray(colored brown, how fitting) and strode to his usual table at the back of the room. Sitting down with a haughty glare at any pairs of eyes that dared to look at him, he viciously ripped off a chunk of muffin with his teeth. Chewing, he looked around and wondered if the new kid was here. Mello was getting bored, and he hadn't tormented anyone yet this morning, aside the nasty looks.
Finally the fancy, wooden double doors were opened about a third of the way, and in slipped a redheaded little boy wearing white and black stripes and faded jeans. Lousy sneakers covered his feet, and Mello almost laughed when he saw that they were about ready to burst.
Probably the most weirdest feature on the boy was the goggles. Too big to look natural on him, they hung on the bridge of his nose and held in place by a strap that went around his head. It was a little lose, slipping downwards a little sometimes.
The sentence that broke the silence that had formed was, "He's cute."
The new boy didn't seem to hear, instead scratching his mousy hair and looking at everyone, big curious eyes behind orange lenses. It was hard to tell his eye color.
Abruptly, Mello sat up, making his chair shove back and almost fall over. All eyes were on him as he made his way to the little boy, who was smiling wide.
"Hi!" the red-haired boy chirped. "I'm Matt. Can I be your friend?"
Mello, once he was close enough, reached forward, grabbed the goggles's strap that was stretched over the redhead's nose and pulled it back. He took note of the bright green irises and let the eye-wear snap back into place.
"Ow!" Matt yelped, lifting the goggles up to rub at his eye. He pouted up at Mello. "You're mean! Why'd you do that?"
Those puppy eyes made Mello falter. Luckily, his voice didn't waver when he said, "Your goggles bother me. Take them off."
"But I feel naked when I don't have them on," Matt said, still pouting. "I don't like feeling naked."
"I said," Mello growled, fisting red hair and pulling the shorter boy close, "take them off."
Matt chose to squirm, trying to wiggle out of his grip. "That hurts!" he complained.
Mello let go of his hair, watching in satisfaction as Matt stumbled back.
"I don't like you," Matt mumbled. "You're not nice."
"And I don't like people in general," Mello told him. "Don't sweat it, kid."
Matt shrugged, tugging at the edge of his striped sleeve. "I just came to tell you to take your stuff off of my bed. I need a place to sleep too, you know."
"What?" Mello's eyes widened.
Matt blinked innocently, looking up at him. "Yeah. You're Mello, right?"
Mello nodded stiffly.
"Well yeah, you're my roommate." Matt shrugged again, scratching his neck.
A fist was sent flying to his face.
"I'm really sorry, Mello," Matt babbled, holding the ice pack to his bruising cheek. "I should have asked nicer."
On the opposite side of the room, Mello tried to glare at the redhead. Why was he the one apologizing when Mello had punched him? This was why he didn't like friends.
Matt was still talking. "D'you wanna play Mario Kart with me?" he said excitedly. He jumped off of his bed, padded over to the game system he still needed to hook up, and smiled at Mello. "You can be Princess Peach because you're pretty like her and stuff." With a great amount of effort, Matt managed to pull the TV back a little so he had space to plug in the wires.
Mello sighed wearily. "Just shut up, don't disturb me, and no I don't want to play."
"Aw." Matt pouted. When he saw that Mello had meant it, he sighed himself, picking up a random wire. "This goes here..." He made sure to be quiet.
Out of the corner of his eye, Mello watched in amazement as Matt assembled the Wii all by himself.
"Are you sure-" Matt began once he was set up and sitting in front of the TV.
"Yes!" Mello snapped, his grip on his knee tightening. His fingernails dug into the cotton and as his fingers clenched in, two of them made small rips in the worn-out pants. "Great," the chocoholic muttered, getting up. "My favorite pair, too..."
The tip of Matt's tongue poked out in the corner of his mouth as he surpassed Yoshi in the last second, winning First Place. He turned to Mello to gloat, but then he saw that the other was undressing...
Matt adjusted his goggles, staring unabashedly.
Mello noticed, narrowing his eyes and stomping into the bathroom. He threw the torn pants onto the floor and grabbed new ones just before he slammed the door close.
Creep, he thought sourly.
The following afternoon, Mello came back into his room with an armload of books. Looking at Matt, who was playing on his Wii again, he rolled his eyes, set the books down on the desk, and just sat down on the chair, yawning.
"Hey Mello, wanna play?" Matt asked from his place on the floor.
"No," Mello bit out.
"Okay." A few seconds of silence. Matt mashed buttons on the controller, shooting pixelated zombies on the screen. "But it's really fun!" he added.
Mello decided to ignore the gamer, standing and going to his drawer to look for something to wear outside. To his surprise, he found his favorite pants-which had been torn yesterday, he reminded himself- fixed and neatly folded on top of his other pants.
Eyebrows furrowed, Mello took it out and examined the knee. It looked like it hadn't been torn at first.
"Hey Matt-" he stopped short when his roommate turned to him with a smiling face. "Never mind." Mello turned away. Him? No way...
The idea that Matt fixed his pants plagued Mello's mind for days. Normally he wouldn't mind-hey, he didn't know the kid, but he got something good out of him. It was more of why Matt had done it that intrigued Mello. After all, the blond had punched him on the first day, and pretty much ignored his existence so far, so why would he fix his pants?
It didn't make sense. No one could be that nice. Well, then again, not everyone was Mello...
Mello growled in irritation, finishing his fourth chocolate bar in the hour. Without a warning, Matt tossed another bar onto Mello's lap.
Startled, Mello looked at him. Matt shrugged back, shot him a lazy half-smile, and turned back to his games. Almost infuriated, Mello grabbed his sleeve and tugged so hard that the fabric tore loudly.
"Damn it!" Mello said loudly, gritting his teeth. He grabbed at his rosary, trying to calm down.
"Hey Mel, you okay?" It was that damn Matt again, asking with that too innocent voice. Mello didn't get it! No one was that nice!
A sharp tug downwards brought his precious rosary to pieces. Mello suppressed a scream of frustration, throwing the beads down on the floor, quickly changing, and storming out of the room.
The next morning, Mello came back to his room to find his shirt fixed and folded in his drawer, and his rosary splayed out on his bedside table.
Matt was playing his game as if nothing had happened at all.
Mello almost broke the fucking game system.
Let's just get this over with, Mello thought grudgingly. He wiggled uncomfortably under the bed, wondering what had driven him to doing this. Oh, right, because practically any clothes he'd ripped were magically fixed and back in its place by the next day.
Grumbling, Mello reached out and made sure that his favorite pants-again with a hole on the kneecap- was clearly visible on the floor. Now he had to wait for Matt.
Eventually the redhead came in carrying a plate of food. "This pair again?" Mello heard him say. "Oh, Mello." At the tone of Matt's voice(it sounded almost...loving) Mello felt warm. Then, mad at himself for feeling such a thing, he focused on catching Matt in the act.
Matt whistled to himself, taking out a red box from under his own bed and opening the lid. He dumped the contents on his bed, snatched the pants from the floor, and took out a sewing needle. Mello watched in fascination as the redhead skillfully repaired the pants.
As Matt was putting away his tools, Mello remembered what he was doing. "Hey!" he cried, crawling out from under the bed.
Matt screamed, a loud and unexpectedly girly noise, diving into his covers and hiding.
"Matt, I saw you fixing - I saw what you did-" Mello didn't know how to put his discovery into words.
"M-Mello!" Matt squeaked, peeking out from the covers. "I thought you were at class!" His cheeks were bright red.
"I skipped it to figure out who was fixing all of my clothes." Mello grinned unintentionally. "Well, Matty, I didn't know you had a sewing fetish."
Matt scrambled to sit up. "I d-don't!" he stammered. "My momma was a tailor and she, um, she taught me how to sew doll's clothes for my little sister." Green eyes gleamed with tears. "Go ahead!" he said unhappily. "You're going to make fun of me!"
Mello chuckled. "Actually, I think it's...interesting." He grinned. "You're different, and I like it. Plus, I do rip a lot of my clothes..."
Nine more years later, an eighteen-year-old Mello would pass a tailor shop and stop to look at the various sewing machines they showed off. The chocoholic would grin, remembering. And he'd buy a yard of fabric and some supplies to come home and humor the redhead.
As Mello walked home with a plastic bag filled with needles and thread in his hand, he couldn't help but feel lucky to have Matt. When the bastard wasn't lazy, he was pretty good at hacking and, of course, doing the laundry. Mello laughed. No matter how persistent Matt got when it came to getting Mello to play his games with him, or that he ate like there would be no more food tomorrow, Mello could surprisingly bear him and keep him around.
Because after all, if Matt weren't there, who'd be sewing the curtains back when a certain trigger-happy blond had shot them?
This, readers, is my gift to MattxMellofangirl for being the 200th review for Roles Reversed. Basically, she said I could write anything I want...so...there you go! Hopefully Matt's sewing skills don't seem too out of character... ^^'