6: in my field of paper flowers

Mello tipped his head back, sighing, his gaze wandering aimlessly at the pretty pictures on the ceiling of the waiting room. He lounged lavishly, an arm lying across his lap while his other rested on the armchair of the maroon couch. His legs were crossed, a booted foot dangling; his posture was one of boredom as Misa babbled on about her date with Light. "Misa," Mello spoke up, "if you don't quiet your tone, someone will overhear."

"And then, and then, he hugged me before I left!" Misa continued, quieting her tone nonetheless. Her eyes gleamed happily and she clapped in delight. "We're going to the amusement park tomorrow. He rented the whole place for us so those bothersome photographers wouldn't butt in." She sighed. "My Light is so sweet."

"Hm," Mello said apathetically.

"How's Matilda?" Misa asked suddenly. "She sounds nice. I should meet her."

A lot of people had been fooled by the marriage as planned; Misa was one of them. "She's great," Mello said dismissively, catching himself when he almost said 'he.' "When's our scheduled 'break up' again?"

"In a week," Misa replied. "What do you mean by, 'great?' "

"What's the plan?" Mello queried.

"You have an interview and you're going to say that you love Matilda more than me, so we're breaking up," Misa answered. "Did something happen between you two?"

Mello frowned. "Okay." He paused. "What's up with all the questions? Matt and I are fine."

"Matt?" Misa echoed, sounding almost happy.

Ah, shit. "Yeah." Mello nodded. "That's my nickname for her."

"Are you sure it's not short for anything else?" Misa said, grinning now like a Cheshire cat. "Like...Matthew?" She copied Mello's sitting position, shooting him an innocently curious look.

"Matthew's a boy name," Mello said. "Last time I checked, I was married to a girl."

Misa stood up. "Well, if you say so," she chirped. "I have to go now. My outfit for tomorrow isn't going to pick out itself!" She walked around the coffee table to the other couch, leaned down, and kissed Mello's cheek. "See you, Mels."

"Bye, Misa." Mello gave a short wave.

When the blonde left, closing the front door with a quiet click, Mello slumped, rubbing his forehead. Were they being too obvious? If Misa, of all people, had a hint of what was really going on, then it might not be too long before the others...

It had been five days since the honeymoon incident. Mello winced at the memory as he stood up and stretched. Matt hasn't contacted me at all since then. Is he really that hung over that night? Mello scoffed. He really is such a girl.

Nonetheless, he grabbed his phone and dialed the number of the local florist.


"He's an asshole," Blair was ranting. "What was his name again? Right, Mello. That's such a girly name! He's probably a closeted gay!"

"Blair," Matt said slowly from his place on the bed, "you're gay too."

Blair stopped in the middle of cursing Mello for the umpteenth time, his cheeks coloring red. "Oh, right." He giggled, falling atop Matt's feet on the bed. "Striped socks, Matt? Really?" He poked the redhead's feet with a look of distaste.

"Oh my god," Matt chuckled. "They're just socks." And the chuckle escalated into a laugh, which eventually became loud guffaws. Blair joined in, and the two boys laughed together on the bed, and to Matt, it felt nice to finally release some of his pent up energy. "That was nice," he breathed once he'd calmed down.

Blair was still trying to stop laughing. "You bet." He relaxed against Matt's long legs. "So. Mello."

Groaning, Matt covered his eyes. "Can we stop talking about him?" he asked. "Just his name makes my head hurt."

"I bet something else still hurts," Blair said bluntly, and Matt smacked him, and he smacked him back. "What? I'm only being concerned with your well-being."

"Nah, that was five days ago," Matt sighed. "It doesn't hurt anymore."

"You should have-" Blair began, but there was a knock on the door before one of the maids opened it.

"Matt?" the brunette stepped in a little apprehensively. "There's someone by the name of Mello looking for you. He says that he wants to talk to you about something important, and, um," she cleared her throat, "he's carrying a bouquet of flowers."

"Oh," Matt squeaked.

The maid nodded. "Would you like me to, um, send him in?"

"Tell him to-"

"No, I'll go talk to him for you!" Blair interrupted with a big and obviously fake grin. His eyes flashed, emotions flickering through, and while Matt was used to it, he couldn't help but shiver a little. "Matty, you stay here!"

"Blair, don't you dare-" Matt began, reaching out for the raven-haired boy. He missed and Blair marched to the doorway.

There he stopped, and smiled sweetly. "I'll tell Mello you said hi," he said, as if this would solve everything. Without another word, he was already heading down the stairs.

Matt flopped back down on the bed. "Fantastic," he muttered, shielding his eyes with an arm.

"Excuse me," the maid cut in shyly, "but is that the man that you're married to?"

Matt lifted his arm to look at her. "Yep."

There was a bang that emanated from downstairs. Matt sighed for what seemed like the millionth time this week. "I'll go make sure no one's hurt," he said resignedly, before getting up, grabbing his hoodie(he was only wearing a pajama top, and he didn't feel very comfortable only wearing that around the man who took his virginity), slipping it on, and walking past the maid towards the staircase.


Lavenders.

Mello stood in the living room where the maid had told him to wait and ran a hand impatiently through his hair.

Lavenders. Matt smells like lavenders, he said to himself without much thought, picking at the purple flowers in his hand. The florist had done a pretty job at arranging them and picked a nice purple bow to hold them together.

There was the sound of footsteps; Mello straightened a little automatically. He'd expected it to be Matt, but the person who'd come out was not the redhead: it was someone else, younger, with black hair and...blue streaks? "Your hair is atrocious," Mello said without thinking, giving the teen a stare that indicated he didn't know whether to be disturbed or to be awed.

"You!" the boy jabbed a finger towards Mello.

"Me," Mello replied boredly. "You're not Matt. Where is he?"

"You're the one who-" Black-Hair-With-Blue-Streaks had began stomping over to Mello, and in the process knocked over one of the decorative porcelain vases perching on a side table. It fell to the ground and shattered.

"Smooth," Mello quipped. "Now, where's-"

"Blair!" And the subject in question appeared in his pajama-clad glory. The moment those blue eyes met his, Matt seemed to falter.

"Looking good, Matt," Mello spoke up, smirking.

Matt blinked, knees buckling a little. Then he shook his head, glared. "Come on, Blair," he said to Black-Hair-With-Blue-Streaks. He grabbed his hand, and that's when Mello supposed he lost it.

With a sudden wave of possessiveness, Mello grabbed Matt's other hand and pulled. Matt came stumbling towards the blond. "These are yours," Mello said, thrusting the flowers into Matt's arms. The redhead let go of Blair's hand to hold the bouquet. "And. I'm not good at these things, but," Mello was aware that by now, his face must have been a shade of tomato red. "I'm sorry. For five days ago."

Matt raised an eyebrow. "You were counting?"

"Just take the damn flowers," Mello said huskily, leaning in close, "and I'll meet you at the park tomorrow at two." He released his hand. "Good for publicity and that shit."

"Okay," was Matt's reply; he seemed incapable of making sentences at that time. He looked down at the flowers, biting his lip.

"Matty!" Blair exclaimed, seemingly flabbergasted.

Mello's eyes narrowed sharply. "Matty?" he inquired.

Blair looked up at him(hm, he's tough for a short guy, Mello thought) with a fierce glare. "Yeah, Matty."

"I don't think this is the right time to be arguing over my pet name," Matt spoke up, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. He was still blushing.

"I'm his husband," Mello drawled. "I should be the only one allowed to call him that."

"Well, I'm his surrogate mother," Blair huffed. "So I'm allowed to call him that."

"You guys, please knock it off," Matt begged.

"All right. We'll decide your proper pet name tomorrow, okay?" Mello said brightly. "Don't forget about it." He ruffled Matt's hair, which made the redhead pout and mutter, "I'm only a year younger than you, you know..."

"See you, then." Mello gave a chipper smile, stuck his middle finger up at Blair, and left.

After a few moments of silence, Matt sighed. "I can't believe you discussed my pet name with that man."

Blair nodded gravely. "I can't believe I told him that I was your surrogate mother."

Another pause.

"Blair, you kind of are."

"Bitch, stop complaining."

Matt chuckled. "Well, all that's left now is..." He looked happily down at the flowers again, bit back a smile, and went to look for a vase.


Before I forget again, this story takes place in modern times. I'd considered making it Romeo-and-Juliet-esque, but they wouldn't have known what a surrogate mother was, probably. Now that I think about it, I think one of the main reasons I started this story was because I wanted to use that line in some context... ._.