Three days went by, and Matt refused to look at you. Had you hurt his heart or his manhood?
You were staring at your face in the mirror, looking for some hint. By no means were you beautiful. Slightly chubby, especially in the thighs, which was why you never wore skirts or shorts. Your face alright, shining with bright, lively dark brown eyes but shamed with thin lips. Your hair was pretty. It was thick and dark brown, with Mello's colored highlights, courtesy of the hair salon. You liked them. The other guys Mello and Matt lived with liked them. Why didn't the people who were most important? You knew why.
You looked different. Not like the way you used to. You didn't change much over the years body wise (except maybe a bit wider, but nobody talked about that and lived to tell the tale), and personality wise, you were the same as you were when you were six. Whammy's kids just didn't change much that way. The difference was your hair. If Mello, Matt, or Near had a different color, you knew it wouldn't fly with you either.
Note to self: Never change anything again.
You got in the shower. You hadn't taken one in at least four hours. You let the warm water run and thought to yourself. For some reason, running water always made you think clearer. Your best ideas came when in the bathroom, either taking a shower or brushing your teeth, or washing your hands. Water was everything to you. It was probably another reason you took so many showers a day.
When you got out, you changed into pajamas and walked out, your chest-length hair tied up into bun to keep your back dry.
Matt walked by. He wavered a moment, like he wanted to stop and talk to you, but he kept walking and hopped onto the couch. This made you angry. You wanted to knock some sense into him. You wanted to make him know you were sorry that you wouldn't... couldn't...
Your mind whirled. Oh, who cares?! If he wants to be mad, let him! If he wants to be a pussy and ignore me, let him! I couldn't care less what was wrong with him. If he wants to misunderstand, then I refuse to give in to him.
"Matt, I'm sorry," you found yourself saying. You were kneeling on the floor by his feet, staring at the floor. Damn it, you thought to yourself.
"Look, Hail's a lap dog!" You heard behind you. There was a roar of laughter. I should kill them all right now, you thought to yourself.
"Get up," Matt said. He didn't move, but he looked down at you through his goggles. "I'm not mad."
This pissed you off. "Of course your mad! You just.." Your sudden bought of anger made a light sheet of sweat cover your body. Your eyes widened and you shrieked as you ran to the sink and ran the cold water over your face, neck, arms, and any other part of your body not covered by clothes.
Nobody laughed. This was not funny. Your fear of sweat was something no one laughed at, thank God. If they did, everyone around you would be doomed to a bout of laughter each time you so much as blushed.
Nobody spoke. Well, a few people tried, but they were silenced. You leaned against the sink with the water running for at least ten minutes, thinking. The television turned on. Dr. Phil? You loved Dr. Phil.
You wandered over to the couch and sat down, watching about a couple in dire need of help for their marriage. The water got turned off behind you.
"You okay?" one of the men asked. You never did remember their names. You didn't really care. You shrugged
"Maybe I should go live with Near," you said to yourself. Near's place was always ice cold. Apparently he liked cold temperatures. You knew he just did it to keep you comfortable.
"No way! Get her a fan!" Mello barked. Obviously he wasn't going to lose to Near, even when the competition was keeping you comfortable.
You rolled your eyes. "It's okay. I feel better." Your panic attack seemed to calm. You were so proud of yourself. You didn't cry, and you didn't even throw up, which was the normal reaction.
Mello put a bowl full of ice on the side table anyway. "Just in case," he muttered.
Matt patted your head. "I don't want you to leave, either. I don't want you to go back to Near. Not yet."
You blinked, dazed and confused at his words and touch.
Near?
Near who?