The Bloody Addiction of Mail Jeevas

It was all a matter of questioning really. If I had been stronger, would I have done it anyway? If I wasn't so dependent on him, would I have rationalized about this situation? I would never know. These question are all in the past, so they will be left unanswered.

I never meant to start. It just sort of…happened. These ragged scars, burning with the fury of each cut. Both my wrist stained an ugly crimson, because I cannot handle my own sorrows. Like my cigarettes, a painful addiction that corrupts my supposedly innocent being. An addiction that I can't stop. Back at the orphanage, I was his best friend, his companion. I was his other half. Some would even say I was in dog in a sort. I missed those times. The playful rough-housing, the entertaining pranks, and when we spent all our time together. But then he left. Without as much as a single goodbye of any kind. That's when it all started.

I just couldn't handle the pain. It was all too much. And so, I began cutting myself. All the blood, the pain and scars, they distracted me from the break in my heart. However, when I grew used to it, and the cutting didn't work as I had hoped, I started smoking. Then, 4 years later, he came back for me. I thought, 'Yes finally I can stop.' Boy, was I wrong. He had changed. So much.

I wasn't his best friend, I was his subordinate. I wasn't his companion, I was his hacker. And I wasn't his other half, but his slave, obeying every order thinking it would show him how much I still loved him. This only made me cut and smoke more frequently. He didn't realize just how much he hurts me. But at least I'm with him, right?

As days drew into weeks, and weeks drawled into months, we grew closer. He actually tells me when he's leaving for 'work' and even says a real goodbye. I was his friend again. His other half.

But I still cut. And he doesn't know.

"Matt?" Mello called, walking a bit slower into our shared bedroom.

"Right here," I replied distractedly, leading Mario down another pipe.

He walked over and sat on the edge of the unmade bed, facing away from me. "Matt I-…" His voice dropped, as if afraid of what he was going to say. "I don't really know how to tell you this…"

"Mels, c'mon, just spit it out," I said. Without saving, I slid the power button of the out-of-date Gameboy Advance to 'Off.'

Mello finally turned around but didn't look me in the eyes. "I have to…go away for a while…"

"Okay, then we'll go together," I smiled at him, hoping I had solved the problem.

"No…Matt, you're not coming with me,"

And for the first time in months, my heart sunk. "Wait. What? Why?"

"It's too dangerous, Matt. I need you to stay here. I can't be worrying about you while fightin-"

I broke him off, utterly stunned by what he was telling me, "Fighting? Mello, what are you exactly going to do?" I hadn't realized I had raised my voice until Mello was actually looking me in the eyes; his own green ones widened the slightest fraction.

"I can't tell you! Please, Matty? It's only for a while," He placed his hand over mine, affectionately rubbing his thumb back and forth.

"And how long is 'a while' Mello? A while may be just a while for you, but for me…One day can feel like a fucking eternity!"

I yanked my hand away and ran towards the bathroom, tears tugging at the corners of my eyes. Hearing Mello's rushed footstep seconds behind mine, I swung the door open and slammed it behind me, sliding down against its ivory wood. The tears were streaming freely now, fogging my orange-tinted goggles. I removed the goggles, throwing them at the bathtub and wiped my eyes with one striped sleeve.

"Matty? Matt, please come out," Mello voice drifted through the door, attempting to lure me out.

I paced the length of the bathroom, eyeing my razor every other second. Every time I did, I mentally slapped myself. I was not going to result to that again. By the time I looked up from the tile floor, Mello had already found the hidden key to the bathroom and unlocked the door I didn't even remember locking. I turned around sharply.

Feeling strong arms wrap themselves around my shoulders, I melted into the touch. Tears were still prickling my eyes, but only slightly. Mello began to roll up my sleeves, only wanting to tenderly stroke my soft skin, but I let out a girlish squeak and leaped away, pushing them down in a panicked motion.

"Matt? What is it?" Mello asked sincerely, eyes watching me curiously.

"Nothing, its noth-," He cut me off like I had him. Gripping my arms so I couldn't escape, he roughly yanked the sleeves up and I couldn't help but wince when his fingers ran harshly across the cuts and scrapes.

Mello examined my wrist thoroughly, a pained frown plastered on his face. I didn't like that expression.

"Mello?" I ventured cautiously.

He took in a deep breath before his hand came in clear contact with my cheek. I stared at him wide-eyed, one of my hands gently caressing the burning hand mark on my face.

"What the hell are you thinking?" he snapped. "Something like this could fucking kill you, Mail Jeevas!" he shook his head in absolute frustration, blonde bangs flailing.

I took a moment to respond, "I thought…it would make me feel better…"

"Feel better? You must have a few screws loose, because this is not making anything better for you. I can't believe you would start doing something as idiotic as this,"

"You started it Mello! Everything is your fault! If you hadn't have gone and left me like you did 5 years ago, none of this would have ever happened! And we would not be standing here right now! I loved you, Mello!"

"Oh…Shit…"

"Yeah, oh shit is right! Do you have any idea how much pain you put me through? I was always in pain, because you never loved be the way I loved you!"

"I did. And I do, Matt," Pressing a hand to my unharmed cheek, Mello wiped away the rapidly flowing tears. He pulled me against him, his hands firmly rested on the back of my neck, and his lips passionate against mine.

Desperately, I entangled my fingers in his perfect mass of golden locks. It was wet, I mean, we were crying. There was an experimental flick of his tongue on my lower lip, and I obediently gave him entrance. He tasted like chocolate, no surprise there. This was love. It was like nothing I had ever felt before and I embraced in completely.

We pulled away for the sake of air, and he rested his forehead on mine, his breathing irregular. "You understand now? I love you, Mail Jeevas. And I'm not going anywhere,"

"I love you too, Mihael…"

It was all a matter of questioning really. If I hadn't started, would I be where I am now? In Mello's loving arms, under the covers of our shared bed, his breath hot against my skin? No. If I hadn't been so in love with him, would I have rationalized about this situation? Not a chance. But at least now…

I could stop.