Chapter 11
Mello couldn't explain it to himself. For once, he didn't feel like being a ruthless bastard to someone. For once, he wanted to bring a smile to someone's face, even if he himself was hurting deeply. After last night's nightmare, he told himself he'd do something good if the mission went well. Which it did obviously, because now Mello had everything he needed to hack into Destruction's system. That was, except a hacker. Noir killed him off, upon demand. But the mission was successful nonetheless and Mello found himself sitting at the table in his rundown apartment with the kidnapped redhead called Matt and he was eating noodles with vegetables while Matt took the steak.

"I didn't know you could cook." You don't know anything about me, he thought.

"I learnt it a while ago."

"It's delicious. How was it like at the mafia today?"

"We kidnapped the head of another mafia, called Angel, and I got the information I needed in order to hack into the mafia base called Destruction. They are currently our biggest opponent. Once we completely destroy them, the stage will be ours. All of LA will fear us."

It felt strange to be talking to a stranger so casually about their plans.

"That sounds great," he mumbled after he swallowed the noodles.

"Only problem is, we don't have a hacker. He was killed."

"Ouch. Well, that could be a problem. When were you intending to hack into their system again?"

"Tomorrow at midnight would be the perfect time. That's why I need a hacker as fast as possible."

"I'm sure you'll find someone. You're in a mafia after all. I imagine stuff like this must be pretty easy."

He snarled at the comment. "Just because I lead a mafia it doesn't mean that finding criminals is all that easy. I have high standards."

"I suppose so," he whispered with a shrug, "But you're a good leader, Mello."

Mello's eye twitched. How in the world has the redhead found out about his name? There was only one way he could have done that and this was exactly what made Mello's blood boil with fury. "You fucking bastard!" the blond shouted and went over to him just to kick him harshly in the side. It was enough to throw him off his chair and onto the ground. Mello straddled his lap and began to beat him up, hitting him with his fist into his stomach and chest, knocking the breath out of him. "I told you not to go into my room! Moron! How dare you look into my notebook!" His face reddened from the anger. Mello pulled out his gun and held it between Matt's eyes. The panting redhead stared up at him with a knowing look. He stared at Mello as if he knew exactly what was going on inside him.

Even when his finger twitched at the trigger, Matt did not show fear in his eyes. You think I won't shoot, huh? You're wrong! You're so wrong, Matt! I could kill you right now! Just pull this trigger and be over this! Fuck, why are you looking at me like this? Why are your eyes so intimidating? Why won't you fear me… You should run away, before I decide to like you. You idiot. You fucking idiot.

Mello lowered his gun again and got up. Without a single word he went to his room, locked the door and slid down to the ground and let the tears out. Breathing became difficult. He grabbed his notebook and frowned at it. On the page of his birthday, the ink was blurry. A tear drop? Did Matt cry when he read this?

Nonetheless he took his pen and began writing something into today's entry. It was a line from Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream.

Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind,

And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.

For another hour, Mello sat in his room, thinking about things he never wanted to think about. How green Matt's eyes were, how fierce his whole being was, how much he wanted to kill him. This terribly confusing feeling lasted for quite a few minutes. Was he becoming the next Beyond Birthday? Did L know this would happen? Was this the reason why Matt reminded him of L?

After he calmed himself down, the blond headed out of his room again. Matt sat at the couch and tried to cover his wound with the shirt again. For a second, Mello felt bad because he knew that his wound was opened because of his beatings. A sigh fell from his lips and he walked over to the redhead.

"Hey, let me look at it. It needs proper treatment."

Matt stayed silent but removed the shirt to reveal the injury. "Fuck, this one is serious. Wait here."

A few minutes later Mello returned with the first aid kit he kept underneath his bed. He set it down on the ground and flipped it open. Feeling Matt's eyes on him, he stood up to dampen the towel with cold water. When he returned to the redhead, he instructed him carefully, "Keep your arm still. I have to clean the wound. This water is very cold so," he let Matt hiss at the intensity of the pain as he used the cold towel to stop the bleeding and clean the wound.

"Shh, it's okay," he tried to calm him as he applied an antibacterial oilment.

"It feels cold," the redhead whispered. "That's good, it heals better this way. You'll be fine." For the next few minutes it was silent while Mello wrapped the gauze around the arm and secured it with some surgical tape. "There you go."

"Thanks, Mello."

When their eyes met that moment, Mello saw raw emotion in Matt's eyes. His chest became tight and for some reason he really wanted to kiss him right now. But Matt turned away and the magic was lost.

"You should, uh, rest. It will heal better this way. I have a busy day tomorrow so I'm going to call it a day as well."

A nod and nothing else. When the mafia boss reached the door, he heard the redhead mumble.

"Sleep better."

Better. Not well. As if he knew.