Suteneko-chan pointed out something which I feel really stupid for. o O; Cripes, I can't even get my stuff right. Wil doesn't have schizophrenia. What he has, my friends, would be multiple personality disorder. Many times over, I'm very sorry. o o;

Anyways, with that out of the way, lykewhoamigosh it's the second chapter. Procrastination, ahoy. I found a new anime to watch, Bleach, and that, among other things, has been eating my time.

And, thanks for the reviews. n n

Made me feel quite nice to know that people like it so far.

It would seem my suspicions were right.

...How I wish I could say that. Well, they were half-way right, in any case. The doorknob jiggled a little bit more (I swear to God it was MOCKING ME), and swung open, to admit entrance to one of the members of the staff here. Oh, no. /Why/ did it have to be Serra, Serra never helped anything... She fixed me with a cheery look, and I merely glared in return. Of course, she was rather used to this kind of treatment, and shrugged off my less-than-friendly reaction, stepping forward a little more. My response was to back up cautiously. At this point, I couldn't help but be forcibly reminded of some kind of wild animal that had just been cornered by pest control. Pest control with a very large and dangerous gun... No, really, I hated taking those /evil/ pills. Serra sighed in exasperation, considering the fact that I was still glaring and looked like I was ready to bolt, but this was somewhat at odds with the way she winked at me.

"Hee. You're a nervous little thing, aren't you?"

A growl formed in the back of my throat, because I was highly indignant at being referred to like that. Unfortunately, however, Serra knew me quite well, and she stood her ground, continuing to appear annoyingly joyful. The pink haired nurse then stepped aside with an overdramatic flourish, and, in spite of myself, I found some of my anger fading away, to be replaced by a new-found curiousity. What did she mean by that...? I wasn't quite sure I wanted to know.

"I present to you... Your new roommate."

I blinked profusely, attempting to register what Serra had just said. As the full meaning of her words managed to sink in to my mind, I could only watch helplessly (Okay, maybe not helplessly...) as someone entered the room.

Okay, let's pause for a second, because I was /pissed/. How could they just randomly shove someone into my room, when they knew very well that there were specific reasons I liked to be left alone? Ooh, there would be hell to pay for this... I'd work out how to exact my revenge later. Anyways...

I hated him from the moment he walked in. That annoyingly knowing smirk, and the way he carried himself, and those deviously slanted eyes... He just STRUTTED in here like he owned the damn place. I'd have to fix that, once Serra left. Almost as if she had known what I was thinking at that moment in time, the nurse waggled a finger at me, as if reprimanding a naughty child.

"Don't even think about trying to hurt him. We've got your room wired."

I swore under my breath, as she gestured to one of the cameras mounted on the ceiling. Of course, the fact that they were watching me wouldn't stop any of my... violent intentions. That just meant I'd have to be quick about it. Trying to seem nonchalant, I let my wide green eyes wander back over to... him. He had very ruffled, sandy blonde colored hair. He was also exceptionally taller than me, but I tried to ignore the thought. Then, the stranger seemed to deem it fit to introduce himself to me.

"The name's Matthew Ostia."

He reached out a hand, obviously waiting for me to shake it, but I was too busy gagging at how cliched he had sounded. Pfft. I tilted myself away from him, declining the offer in a rather rude fashion, and staring determinedly at the wall after doing so. And what a fascinating wall it was... Serra shifted from one foot to the other in the ensuing awkward silence, and tenatively began to back away towards the door, trying to seem discreet. Meanwhile, Matthew had dropped his hand in a resigned manner, before giving me a looking over. Since I was examining the blank stretch of wall in front of me, I didn't catch how my supposed room mate was staring at me, though I did notice that Serra was about to leave the room, considering that she wasn't all that skilled at being inconspicious...

I danced inwardly at this. The pink haired nurse lingered in the doorway for a moment, casting a few faintly worried looks between Matthew and myself, before closing the door. I heard the distinct 'click' of aforementioned door being locked, and I shuffled back over to my bed. Sitting down on the edge, and swinging my legs back and forth, I allowed my gaze to wander back over to Matthew. He took a few more steps into the room, before seating himself in /my/ chair. I bit back a growl at this, instead maintaining my lack of speech,and merely continuing to glare at him.

Damn him, he just seemed AMUSED by the entire thing. He crossed his arms, and slouched a little more, only intensifying the nonchalant air he was currently exuding. I scowled at him, before almost haughtily turning away once again. He chose this moment to speak.

"You're not very friendly, are you?"

I didn't even have to look at him to tell he was smirking. The facial expression, while not something tangible, was still apparent in his words, and wove itself around his tone of speech. I just made a disgruntled noise in reply, though I did turn to face him. He had arched one eyebrow in a somewhat quizzical manner, his amber eyes containing a moderately interested glint.

"Well, you're looking at me. That's an improvement. Now, come on. You could at least tell me your name. Otherwise, I'll have to find something to refer to you as..."

For some reason, I was slightly scared by this concept. Mainly because Matthew currently appeared relatively... devious, for lack of a better word. And he seemed to know it, too. I shifted in a distinctly uncomfortable way, before grudgingly offering a reply.

"M-my name's Guy Kutolah."

I gritted this out, and then blinked profusely. Where had the stutter come from? I resisted the momentary urge to go bang my head against the wall, and attempted to figure out why my words held a tremble. I could only settle on one reasonable explanation, and that was that I hadn't spoken in such a long time, and thusly wasn't used to the sound of my own voice. Said explanation seemed rather weak, to me, and I pushed the thought away, for later contemplation.

Matthew had caught my momentary lapse, and sat up a little straighter. Thoughtfully, he raked a hand through his already quite tousled hair, once again staring inquisitively at me. However, before he could start asking me another question, I took a turn as interrogator. I was quite grateful that I managed to keep my voice calm, and stutter-free.

"Why are you here, anyways?"

I couldn't quite help the slight amount of contempt that tinged my words, but it was a justifiable question. Because, after all, I didn't want to share a room with a convicted murderer or anything. The quizzical look on my new companions face faded a bit, and, for a split second, his features clouded over, before visibly brightening. I drew my legs upward, shifting into a cross-legged position,and proceeded to invoke a staring match with Matthew. Unblinkingly, he gazed back at me, and seemed rather reluctant to answer my question. Still, I stared, before those knowing amber eyes became too much for me, and I turned away with a derisive snort. This, if anything, seemed to pull him from his hesitance to communicate.

"You'll have to find out, I suppose."

I gave a distinctly angry toss of my head, my emerald plait following my motions, and grumbled something at his lack of cooperation. His response hadn't really told me much. Apart, of course, from the fact that he was an arrogant jerk... I shot another glare at him, before taking the lull in activity as a chance to glance out the heavily barred window in our room. Dinner had been a few hours ago, and it was already quite dark... Pale moonlight filtered through the window in little slivers, and for a while, I just focused on the small amount of illumination. After a few moments of this, I was staring at nothing in particular, and my eyes slid out of focus.

For the second time tthat day, I blinked profusely, and shook my head, attempting to clear my thoughts. Without a word, I rolled over, laying down with my back facing Matthew. I hugged my pillow close to my chest in slight frustration, as many, many questions tried to flow over into my train of thought all at once. Forcing myself to calm down, I loosened my grip on my pillow slightly, and obstinately closed my eyes. I /would not/ let Matthew get to me. Of course, knowing that he was still sitting there was kind of disturbing, and I couldn't help but be annoyed by his mere presence. That was it. My eyelids fluttered open, and I shifted, turning once more to the table.

Imagine my surprise when I found that the form of my new room mate had decided to abandon his temporary residence in my chair, in favor of standing next to my bed. I jumped slightly, and, on somewhat of a reflex motion, tossed my pillow at him. Perversely satisfied that the object had collided with the form of my companion, I watched as he simply bent over for a moment, picked up my pillow, and put it back on my bed. He tilted his head, looking rather amused by my childish reaction, but my glaring and scowling seemed to deter him. Matthew took a step back, and then shrugged. I was quite busy wondering what the hell he had been doing standing there, when his voice broke through my ponderings.

"No need to be so touchy."

A cheery grin here, and then he continued on with his words. I gave a low growl in reponse, but even this didn't stop him from speaking.

"If it's alright with you, I'm just going to take this bed over here..."

He gestured vaguely beside him. Out of habit, my eyes followed his motions, and my gaze alighted on the currently vacant bed a few feet from my own. It hadn't been used in quite some time, and the pristine white sheets were unruffled, almost completely devoid of wrinkles. I just inclined my head, as if to say I didn't care, before snatching up my pillow and returning it to its proper position. I heard his nearly silent footsteps, as he wandered away from my bed, and this fact reassured me somewhat.

Still, I had the vague idea that I wouldn't be getting much sleep tonight. Tugging the covers up from underneath my curled up form, I slipped between the sheets, resting my head on my pillow. Luckily, the wall on the far side of the room was the wall with the window, and I chose that direction to face. Laying on my side, I gazed apathetically at the outside world, as my thoughts drifted off into a moderately detached state. Damnit, why the hell did they stick me with /him? Suddenly, however, something rather frightening ocurred to me. Well, it was frightening to me, at least. Why had they put Matthew in here? Had they tagged me as a hopeless case, and figured that I wouldn't be getting out any time soon, so it didn't matter?

Unconsciously, I suppressed a shiver, and snuggled almost childishly against my pillow. I made a silent vow that I /would/ get out of this accursed place, whatever it took. At that moment, I didn't quite realize that, if I wanted to be released, I would have to act more kindly towards Matthew. No, instead, I contented myself by thinking of ways to annoy my new companion, hopefully to the point where he would be happy to request a different room mate.

...I wouldn't let myself admit that I liked having someone around. I forced myself to think that the lonliness had been better, much better, than having to share a room with this (sort of) stranger. As the light around me slowly dwindled, and the room was steeped in darkness (save for the illumination of the moon coming through the window), I relaxed. It was silent, and only the slow, barely there sounds of Matthew's breathing broke the blessed lack of noise. It took a bit for me to register the fact that Matthew was indeed asleep, and, even then, it didn't mean much to me.

I shifted, still not quite able to nod off. I was calmer, yes, but not necessarily ready to fall asleep. There was still many, many thoughts nagging at my mind, and all of them seemed to have high-pitched, annoying voices. I shoved my face against my pillow, effectively clinging to it. I willed away those irksome annoyances, wiping my mind almost entirely blank, as I found myself in a passive state. My eyes closed once again, and the tiny tendrils of thought still clinging to my consciousness relinquished their grip, allowing me to drift off to sleep peacefully.

Peacefully, pfft, right. I felt a gentle weight pulling on my braid, and the motion seemed almost cautious, and experimental. The feeling pulled me from my drowsing state, andI blearily opened my eyes. For a moment, I was greeted with a lovely view of my pillow, before I rolled over. The weight immediately withdrew from my braid, and I groggily looked up. At that point in time, any sleepiness in me vanished, as my attention focused on the form hovering over my bed.

"What the hell do you want?"

Question: Do you consider Guy seme, or uke? I think he's gonna end up somewhat seme, in this... o O; HE'S NOT SOME STUTTERING LITTLE UKE, FULES. D:

'Scuse that. Anyways, review, plzkthxbai. Maybe it'll get the next chapter up faster. o o