So it had been a while since you last saw Matt. Five odd years, it seemed. You had been with him every day of your lives for fourteen years. Same with Mello and Near. When they left, you stayed behind (even though they had wanted you to come) and finished high school. You wanted to go to college. You wanted to be a lawyer. Now you weren't sure what to do.
You stared at the ceiling, your head on Mello's lap, your body spread out on the couch. He played with your hair absentmindedly, which was the color of bark and his own. The men around you were staring at you. Mello finally lost it and told them to "Keep your eyes off of the lady!"
"The lady"? When had you become anything other than one of "the guys"? You could hold your liquor better than Mello, strip a chicken wing to the bone faster than Matt, and you could burp the ABCs. The only feminine thing about you was your pathetically small chest, facial features, hips, and the fact that you showered several times a day. You happened to hate sweat. On mildly warm days, you refused to even leave the house.
You frowned and sat up, noticing Mello pout slightly. You ruffled his hair and he slapped your hand playfully away, only slightly pissed that it was messed up.
"Idiot," he grumbled with a small smirk.
Matt walked into the room, a towel wrapped around his waist, hair dripping, goggles fogged. He avoided your eyes and sat down. One of the men put his hand over your eyes.
"Matt, close your legs!" You heard the slap of his legs banging together. "That's no way to sit around a girl!" You couldn't help but giggle. You didn't tell the man that you and Matt had gone through potty training days together, swimming classes, shared a room, and even once walked in on him dressing, and therefore had seen the grand endowment several times before.
The man lowered his hand and apologized for Matt's behavior. The man didn't "know what had gotten into him".
Matt sighed and rolled his eyes as he picked up a plastic guitar.
Guitar Hero III.
Oh, yes.
"I'm playing," you announced. There was silence around you. Apparently they knew of Matt's video game ability, and of course no girl could keep up. You rolled your eyes.
Matt set it to expert without a word.
"Piece of cake," you growled and picked up the second guitar. Mello walked into the kitchen.
"You'll need these," Mello declared, handing out beer.
You began to battle against Matt. By two am, your audience was all either asleep or passed out drunk. He had beat you by the slightest margin possible. It it had been anyone else, you probably would have had a tantrum. Only Matt could beat you without any complaint from you. Because the two of you were so wrapped up in the game, neither Matt nor you had had anything to drink. You let out a sigh at the sight of the passed out men. Only two others were awake besides Matt and yourself.
Matt grabbed your hand and pulled you up and to his room. Behind you, there were two loud hollers of encouragement. You weren't a little girl. You knew what he wanted, and what was coming next. You knew, yet you were in a sea of confusion.
"C'mon, Hail. Let's have fun." He kissed you hard, jamming you against the wall. His palms were flat against the wall on either side of your head, and your fingers twisted in his hair. You wrapped your legs around him. You tried in vain to keep his towel on. It fell to the floor, but he didn't seem ashamed. The two of you made your way to the bed. You were lost in him, not believing he would ever wanted to kiss you like this. There was real passion in it. You knew there was. When you hit the bed, you pushed him away.
"Hail, don't you want me?" He looked hurt. You were confused. You knew you loved him, there was no doubt of that, but why did you stop? His goggles shined in the moonlight flooding in from the window. His eyes now a bring orange, hair a deep red, a hurt look on his face? He looked like a demon, but a demon with no intention of evil.
"I'm not ready," you whispered. Your nails scratched at your jeans over your thighs. He frowned for a minute and picked up his towel and and left the room.