Disclaimer: I do not own or make money from the anime/manga Death Note.
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AN: Sorry for the wait on this. Work is a killer for my writing XD On the upside, part 3 is halfway complete.

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Suggested Listening: Diaries by The Birthday Massacre (seeing a theme for this playlist? 30 out of 39 songs are from them for a reason)

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Part Two

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"Here," the redhead held out a box of tissues pilfered from somewhere in the house. Mello snatched them with narrowed eyes.

"Don't even think for a second this lets you off the hook." Mello tore three tissues from the box and pressed them angrily to his nose. Which still fucking hurt. Thankfully, it appeared not to be broken.

Matt snorted, "Of course not. What was I thinking?"

Mello scowled further. He had no idea what to make of the teen before him. Matt could have easily attempted to kill him to keep his secret; no one would have been the wiser. Instead he was getting him tissues for the bloody nose he gave him. It made no sense. In fact, this entire situation was fucked.

"Why are you in my town?" Mello grumbled, wincing once more as he tried to staunch the flow of blood. Without a mirror he was failing miserably. Yet if he left the room and anyone spotted him there would be trouble he couldn't deal with at the moment.

Matt sighed, "move your damn hands." Matt pulled fresh tissues from the box and stared expectantly at him.

"Why?" Mello stiffened. What was he playing at?

"Because I said so. Fuck, you are hard to handle!" Matt snapped. He shoved Mello's hands away from his face and replaced the bloodied tissues with the new ones. "Sit still," he commanded when Mello tried to squirm away.

Gold flickered within his eyes and Mello stopped resisting. Matt might have been held in check by a binding spell, but that did not mean he wasn't dangerous when riled up. Thus far he had only been offering help—granted it was all his fault in the first place.

"Do not give me that look or I really will break your nose."

Mello scoffed, though the effect was lessened by his predicament.

"Hold it there. And tilt your damn head back," Matt shook his head in irritation.

"You never answered my question." Mello did as requested, though kept his eyes trained on the redhead least he make a run for it.

Without even asking if it were allowed Matt took out a pack of cigarettes—bumping the pack to free one—and lit it the second it was between his lips. "You saw the spell. What do you think?"

Matt was of course referring to the circular lines of writing that resided on his left wrist.

"One of two things: First—you came here with the craft-user that gave you that and are working for them," Mello paused at the instantaneous snarl Matt released, "or Two—you are hunting said craft-user to kill them." Mello was beginning to place his bet on the second option.

"Look, I have no idea why you are all bent out of shape with me being here. I don't really care. I'm not here to cause you any trouble. I just want this shit over with." Matt let out a puff of smoke, appearing older than his years. Tired and soul weary.

"I protect this town. That makes you being here my business. So spill."

"This is not the place for that kind of discussion," Matt stated firmly. He would not be moved.

Mello nodded. And against his better judgement, "Since I don't plan on letting you out of my sight: your place or mine?"

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"Home sweet home. Make yourself comfortable while I change," Mello told the disbelieving redhead. His house was definitely a step up from the motel Matt was currently staying in. That, among the motel's thin walls, was the deciding factor to them coming here.

Mello quickly stripped off his blood sodden clothing—he had forgotten just how much a nose could bleed with a good hit—as he headed for his room. A pair of jeans and an old band-t were selected. Checking that the redhead had not wandered that far down yet, Mello crept into his bathroom.

He grimaced. His nose looked terrible. There would most certainly be dark bruising come morning. Splotches of blood marked his cheek, and parts of his nose, even daring to drip as far down as his chin. He was a complete mess.

Wadding up toilet-paper, he wet the mass and dabbed at every bit of red he could find. When satisfied he no longer looked like a murder victim, he tossed the grossly pink paper into the trash and exited the bathroom.

He found Matt loitering around his entertainment center, cautiously running his fingers over the titles of movie cases. Mello watched him for a moment longer before clearing his throat. Startled, Matt bumped into the shelf and for a horrified moment it appeared that it might collapse—Mello had been meaning to fix it.

Made for an entertaining sight however, as Matt frantically braced the shelf until it no longer appeared in danger. He then lifted his hands and slowly backed away from it. His expression was sheepish when their gazes met. Mello smirked.

"Let's get this over with," Matt grumbled, shuffling over to the couch—the one behind Mello and across from the fireplace.

"Before you destroy my home?" Mello replied in a amused tone. Matt's reply was cut off by a growling stomach.

Mello frowned and checked the time despite Matt's incredulous expression, "Guess I will make something for us to eat. I have the feeling our conversation will take a while anyway." He shrugged.

"That's not necessary really," Matt told him. "I can pick up something later."

"What kind of gracious host would I be if I didn't offer refreshments?" Mello gave a theatrical sweep of his arms as he walked towards the kitchen that had Matt snorting in mirth.

"Fine then. Don't complain when I eat you out of house and home." Matt stood and began to follow.

Mello seriously doubted he could. The pantry was fully stocked as was the fridge and freezer.

Matt patiently waited by the counter as Mello gathered bag of frozen vegetables, and a package of meat from the fridge. Stir fry was easy to make, as well as quick. He did not want to give Matt too much time to relax and formulate a way not to answer his questions. What was said would help him decide if Matt would be allowed to stay within the town or not.

"You never asked if I liked what you were making. What if I were allergic?" Matt asked as he took the offered food—once completed and served in one of the stylishly slanted black porcelain bowls.

Mello shrugged, "would make my job easier then." Seeing the redheads frown he added, "Oh, did you think your good looks and charm would be enough to see you through?"

"Fuck you." Matt snapped and walked into the living room.

"You wish," Mello said quietly.

"I heard that!"

Mello blanched. He forgot about a shifters hearing.

Studiously ignoring the redhead as he sat down across from him, he lifted his fork and took a bite of vegetables. He may have put too much peppercorn on them. Still, it was edible. Much more so than anything Matt would have had that night, he bet.

Matt seemed to agree as he inhaled the food. Though Mello suspected it was more tactics than anything. With his mouth full he could not be expected to talk. That was fine by the blond. When the bowl was empty the interrogation would begin.

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-End Two-

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Thoughts?