Hey, I swear I'm not dead! ...yay? Maybe? (shit, I'm not supposed to talk to her...) Anyway, yeah. I just feel that I need to post something and make sure it's not from... the Homestuck fandom. It's just too painful to do that right now. That and I don't have any FINISHED homestuck fics at the moment. Just wait for that. *muttering* stupid, stupid, fucking gigapause...
Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note, bluh bluh bluh
If there was one thing the house of geniuses didn't know, it was why Matt never wore any shirt but his long-sleeved, striped one. His short-sleeved striped shirts, striped wifebeater top, his, amazingly enough, non-striped shirts, all cast aside, never to be used again. Abandoned, just as he felt.
Matt knew, though. He hadn't worn a different one because this shirt still smelled like chocolate. Like Mello. It had been the shirt he was wearing the last time he had saw, touched, talked to Mello. The smell was vivid, so vivd that Matt could tell exactly what kind of chocolate it had been:
Ghirardelli dark chocolate with raspberry filling. Mello's favorite.
"Mail," Mello had whispered into the dark as he lay on the redhead's chest. He had used Matt's real name, a sign that he was either upset about something or very, very worried.
"You know I love you, and would never want to hurt you, right?"
"Of course, Mihael." Matt muttered back and gently touched his soft lips to his lover's forehead. When he had asked why that particular question was asked, Mello had simply told him not to worry about it and pet his head. Matt, being the dog he is, melted into the touch and did forget about it. The next morning, he woke up to find Mello not there and a chocolate bar on the pillow that had held the blonde's head just the night before. The rest of the orphanage found out that their resident second-place holder had left.
Matt searched every room in the whole house for his companion at least four times, waving the chocolate around, tears streaming down his face, to no avail.
After that morning, he never took the shirt off as if it was part of his skin itself. It was the only thing he had left that could so... realistically bring back memories of his Mihael. The beautiful, amazing blonde that had stolen his heart and taken it with him to whatever place he had run off to. Without a trace, without a sound.
Other things reminded him of Mello too; crosses, chocolate, the like. He would stare at these thing when he saw them, memories pouring into his mind, tears threatening to spill into his goggles. But, eventually, he would calm down, trying to tell himself that, "objects are not people". Above all, it was just painful to be in the vicinity of these objects. Just... too painful...
Hey, I just met you
and this is crazy.
But you read my fanfic
so review it maybe? ^-^