Mello wandered down the hallway, bored to the point of tears. He'd been at Wammy's for three months, and had quickly established a pecking order. Mello was king, and the others, especially that sheepy-kid Near, were insignificent little bugs who had to avoid him AT ALL COSTS.
Mello rounded the corner and stopped. Sitting against the wall outside the main office was a red-haired boy, who looked to be a year or two younger than himself. He wore a red-and-black striped shirt and jean shorts. He was shoeless, and was wear gray socks that were full of holes. Around his neck were black, plastic goggles with yellow lenses. His face, particularly around his eyes, was red, like he'd been crying.
Mello would never, not to his dying day, be able to explain the phenomenon that possessed him that day. An impulse unlike anything he'd ever felt before took control of his body. He walked over to the boy and sat beside him. Mello curled his arm around the smaller boy's shoulders and let the red-haired head fall on his shoulder.
They stayed like that for a while, and more emotions Mello was unfamilier with cascaded through him. The smaller boy was warm, and Mello was sensitive to cold, so that made him appreciate the close proximity. The boy's face was innocent, and maybe a little cute, so he felt no physical aversion to him. But neither of these things grasped the blonde boy's heart more than the sense of protectivness that almost overwhelmed him. He felt like he wanted to take the boy away and hide him in his bedroom, to keep him all for himself and not let any of the evil in the orphanage, or the world, ever touch him.
This emotional ascent was interuppted by a tiny moan, that sounded a little like a squeak. The boy stirred, and opened his eyes. They were a shocking and mesmerizing shade of emerald green.
The boy regarded him sleepily, and pulled his head up. Mello didn't pull his arm away.
"Who are you?"
The boy's voice was clear as crystal, and high-pitched enough to belong to a small girl. The sound of it made the blonde's heart flip pleasently.
"I'm Mello. You're new here, right? What's your name?"
The boy trembled a little before answering.
"I'm Matt, or, that's my nickname. I don't like my real name."
Mello grinned; "I don't like my name either. Mello isn't my real name."
"What is?"
"Only if you tell me yours first."
Matt pouted, looking like a complete angel when he did so.
"Fine, my real name is Mail. Now will you tell me?"
"It's Mihael."
"Lucky! That's way better than Mail!"
"You know it."
The pout was on full-force now, and Mello was sure his heart-rate accelerated quite a bit.
Matt yawned, and his head flopped down again. Mello jumped a little, and then smiled. He squeezed Matt a little tighter, and let his own head touch Matt's. Something was definatly malfunctioning in his heart, but he didn't care. He liked this feeling so far.