Hello everyone, thank you for the reviews! I really, really, appreciate them. I know it was short and I am sorry! So here is a much longer chapter for all those who reviewed and who added this story to their favourites/alerts.
Nikki: yes I agree I never could imagine their relationship as one of those normal 'I love you' sissy ones.
Flamablechoklit: yes, that is exactly what I was aiming for really. I will elaborate this need to ignore the 'love' later in the story
Crazy Little Feline: Ha yes, I was aiming for that sad/angry feeling! Hope I don't depress you too much XD And no need to worry, it does indeed get a little nicer, keep your hopes up!!
Syberia Winx: added you to my new email ;)
Narni4eva: thank you!!
WARNING: Mello makes many homophobic comments in this chapter. I do not wish to offend anyone and these are NOT my opinions. I just think they are crucial to the plot. Please do not take offence.
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I walk along the busy streets listening to my leather boots smacking on the clean pavement. I crunch at the newly unwrapped chocolate bar in my hand It is cold today; I am attired in my full leather outfit; the jacket and all. Shades are still covering my eyes. I had to keep a low profile whilst following Mogi. He returned to Aizawa and there has been no change in the killings. Misa Amane is not the second Kira – I am certain of that. However, I cannot help but ponder over the character of Light – Amane's lover. Souichiro Yagami has a son called Light. From what I heard Near say, I have deduced that this Yagami Light is the fake L. My phone rings and again I am ripped from my thoughts and deductions.
"What happened Matt?" I ask immediately. He explains to me that he cannot quite hear what the two are saying but describes their expressions to me.
"I understand. Keep an eye on them and then meet me at the bar on Readen's Street okay?" I say. God – and no, I do not mean Kira-sama – I need a drink.
"What are we going to that bar for?!" Matt asks. Sometimes his inferior intelligence does show through but admittedly rarely.
"Cause I need a fucking drink and a good time, alright sweet cheeks?" I spit down the phone at him. I can almost see him flinch.
"You need to chill out more Mello, with all your leather and your anger, you are starting to look like a dominatrix," he retorts. I have to hand it to him, it was a good answer.
"You have such a kinky mind Matt," I say with a small chuckle. He returns the laugh. I open my mouth to say something; something sweet; something to thank him for staying with me and doing this case with me. Yet, I hesitate and instead mumble bye and hang up. I take an extremely gluttonous bite of my chocolate and crunch it for comfort. The sweet taste fills my mouth.
I walk along the bitterly cold streets to find the sleazy bar. The neon lights shine out to alert me it is open. As soon as I enter, the scent of tobacco, sweat, and alcohol fills my nostrils. An unpleasant but somewhat comforting mix of aromas. I like places like this. They are so fucked up they suit me. I plonk myself down on one of the barstools and wait for my lover to join me. The bartender (an aging queen) asks me what I want to drink whilst batting his false eyelashes at me. I grumble out my order and he seems to get the hint and leaves me alone. I hate the gay scene really. All of those disgusting sinners, wearing heels and make up, distorting the image God gave them. All these stupid fags, do they not realise they will end up in hell? My rosary seems to sear my skin, hanging heavily around my neck. I gulp down the bitter alcohol the bartender brought me and shut my eyes. Why do I still wear this rosary? God must hate me as much as I love fucking men. Maybe this – this fear of being sinful – is what is keeping me from opening up to Matt. Maybe not. Maybe it is the fear of rejection. I am never best - always second to Near, not good enough for my mother so I was sent to the orphanage. If I let myself love Matt, if I show him my whole soul, surely I won't be good enough for him either. At least I used to have my looks, now those are ruined by these revolting scars. If I let myself love Matt, he will just leave and no matter what any philosophical fool tells me, it is not better to have loved and lost. It is better to have never loved at all. I raise my eyebrows and let out a smirk at the so called 'act of love' is preformed by two men behind the bar. You know you are in a seedy joint when people are fucking right in front of you.
"Care to give them a run for their money?" an alien voice whispers heavily into my ear. I turn to see a man, late twenties, dressed in jeans and a tight tank top. He is good looking, but nothing special. I smirk and offer him the seat next to me (Matt seems to be late anyways). "What's your name?" he asks.
"What's yours?" I reply and gulp down another shot of fuck knows what!
"Ha, cheeky one huh? It's Jacob," he says with a hearty and drunk chuckle.
"Mello".
"What brings you to the club of lost souls?" he asks with a wry smile. He gestures to the sleazy bar.
"Lost souls eh?" I ask.
"Yes, no one comes here unless they have serious issues, it's a well known fact," he replies casually.
"Guess that sounds round about right. What're you here for then?" I ask, turning towards this man, now more interested.
"Killed a man who loved me," he replies so monotonously that I almost jump. It takes a lot to shock me, but his bluntness does.
"How do you know I wont go to the police and tell them that?" I ask but there is not a hint of threat in my voice.
"I don't," he replies and his eyes meet mine. I am filled with an inexplicable sadness as I stare into his dark brown empty eyes. Is this what I am someday destined to be? A lonely killer? My hand comes to his cheek and I pull his lips to mine. The kiss is brusque; short. Not short enough; Matt – who had coincidentally just entered the bar – sees. I can notice from the whole way across the room that is eyes are tearing up. He places his goggles back on and storms towards me. He sits himself down next to me without a word, orders a drink and stares forward.
Damn it! Why did he have to come in just then? It wasn't like the kiss meant anything. Both Jacob and I could tell him that. We were both mourning over someone else and found solace in a stupid kiss. That was it.
"You know, it would be nice if you had the decency to tell me this was an open relationship," Matt says through clenched teeth.
"Don't…" I start but Matt has stood up and disappeared into the crowd before I can finish my sentence. I sigh and order another drink.
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Twenty minutes have passed and I still am rooted to my stool and I still have not seen Matt. I decide that I'd better go look for him. I stand up and head over to the toilets. I push open the door and I see Matt on his knees servicing some random guy. My eye sight fogs and anger seethes through my veins. In an instant, I am grabbing Matt's arm and yanking him off the man. The oaf starts to complain that he hasn't come yet so I throw a punch to his nose for good measure.
"We're going home," I inform Matt and drag him outside. He follows obediently but moodily and I walk in a stony silence.
"You are angry at me?! This is fucking ridiculous Mello. You were the one who started this!" Matt shouts and a few people on the street turn to look at us.
"Keep your voice down," I grumble.
"Just how many people have you been fucking behind my back Mello? Two? Four? Fifty?!" Matt asks, his hands tugging at my leather jacket so I have to look at him.
"None, it was just a fucking kiss. I wasn't the one sucking off a stranger in a toilet and contracting AIDS," I reply.
"He was wearing a condom!" Matt scoffs. "And don't try and turn it on me, since we started this sick little thing I haven't touched another man until tonight!" he continues and suddenly I come to an abrupt halt. I spin around to face him and he looks shocked.
"And I haven't ever fucking touched another man apart from a chaste kiss tonight. You don't get it do you? I am not homosexual!" I whisper angrily. His mouth drops open in disbelief.
"Not homosexual? Don't kid yourself, you've been fucking me for months!" He replies.
"Why can't you get this? You are the only man I have ever liked! You are the only person I have ever fucking liked! I am not fucking homosexual. The only person I have ever thought about sexually is you!" I am whispering but my voice gets louder and louder. I know I will regret what I am saying tomorrow. I promised myself I would never reveal this to anyone but alcohol and emotions are confusing me. Matt stops dumbfounded.
"But you've had sex with others?..." he asks sheepishly. I shake my head. "Nothing?" he asks in shock.
"Just with you and that one chaste kiss with a stranger in the bar which was just cause I felt sorry for him!" I reply honestly. He says nothing for a few seconds and I turn and carry on walking. A few moments later I hear him running to catch up with me. His gloved hand encases mine.
"I'll never touch anyone else again…I promise," he whispers to me. "It will always be only you," he continues. My stomach gives a happy lurch and I smile despite attempting not to.
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