Worth it
Chapter 5: You're being nice and I'm selfish.

I always imagined heaven to be less crowded, with a beautiful angel to guide me inside and show me the wonders the world I could only dream of when I was alive.
Instead, there was a fat guy, with a positively nauseating smell, trying to fit himself through the narrow door, and, as I looked through the glass shop window, I certainly have not imagined heaven to be full of annoying children dragging their mothers along, insisting they'd buy them leather pants that were horrifyingly similar to Jim Morrison's.
I glance at the door again and let out a relieved sigh when I see no signs of the fat guy still stuck in the doorway. I make my way inside, fighting a grin off my face. Kinda hard to keep my joy inside when I can clearly see leather all over this shop. My second skin, displayed out there for me to choose whatever suits me best.
"Can I help you?" A soft voice asked from beside me and I turned to find a raven haired female, she looked pretty young, and was looking at me curiously. I nodded, pointing at three pairs of leather pants, one after the other. I noticed her staring at my scar and cleared my throat to get her attention. "I'd like to try them out." I tell her, then give her my size, turning away and pretending to look around again so that she'd leave.

I look at the full length mirror and smirk a little, trailing my hands down my leather clad thighs, then turning around to inspect how my rear looks in it. I step out of the changing room, satisfied with the leather pants I've tried on, and now looking around for a leather top. It takes me a few minutes to find two that I simply can't fight the urge to get. I put one on, still wearing one of the new leather pants, and somehow I just instantly start feeling better. I walk out of the changing room again, now looking at the prices for all the stuff I was going to buy, and I nearly choked on thin air as I saw how expensive the things were. Yes, I could afford them, but still, it would surely empty my account. "Looks nice." A voice spoke behind me and I turned around to find Matt there, looking me up and down, then nodding with appreciation. "Got everything you wanted?" He asked and I nodded, not even asking how he found this shop, it was probably the only one that sells leather around. "Alright, let's pay then go look for some shirts and Jeans." He grinned at me, walking toward the counter to pay, but I could feel him glance at me again, though I said nothing about it. I pulled out my credit card and handed Matt his wallet, smiling slightly. "I found this in my pants this morning, you don't have to pay for my shit any longer." I made a move to give the card to the shop keeper so that I'd pay, but it was unceremoniously snatched out of my hand and replaced by the wallet. "Not safe." He told me, and I wanted to argue against it, tell him that it wasn't registered with my name, but the look he gave me said he already trusted me not to mindlessly lead the bad guys to us, but he wanted to make sure nonetheless. "It's okay then, we don't have to buy this." I whispered by his ear, feeling the young girl's eyes on us, waiting to get paid.
"I've enough money to cover it." He whispered back, his breath tickling my neck. Before I had time to answer, he'd already taken his wallet back, then looked at the screen before him to see how much it was going to cost him.
If he was shocked, or annoyed that he had to pay, he didn't show it, he paid cash, smiling at the shop keeper's surprised expression. He took the bags once everything was packed in them, and looked at me. "Coming?"

We'd kept shopping all day, Matt got some delicious tight jeans for himself, as well as new shirts that were quite similar to the ones he had, striped black and red, white and red, black and white, and even blue and black, they all looked a bit big on him, but he refused to have one his exact size, he insisted in taking those one size bigger. He had also showed me to a shoes shop where I got a new pair of shoes and Matt got black Converse. By now we were exiting the mall, both of us with shopping bags in both hands, and Matt was talking endlessly about how game-deprived he was feeling and how much he couldn't wait to get home. We reached the car in the parking lot, and Matt unlocked it, hurriedly placing all the new stuff in the trunk.
"Can we go somewhere for dinner?" I asked, we'd skipped lunch in favour of spending the time shopping, I'm sure we'd both be happy if we didn't shop for the next century.
"I.. sorta had something else planned out." He told me as he locked the trunk and walked over to me. He'd already spent shit loads of money on me today, as well as wasted his time shopping with me. Can I be more fucking selfish?
"Ah, sorry." I told him, offering him a smile, which actually resembled a grimace, I looked down, I was feeling fucking guilty.
He was silent for a minute and I looked up to tell him we could go now but he was staring at me in such a way that.. I couldn't get the words to form on my lips. His gaze was soft as he continued to look at me for a few more minutes before stepping even closer to me, almost touching. My brows furrowed in confusion but I kept my eyes locked with his, now very aware of how close his face was to mine.

Suddenly the serious, tender expression was gone, and all too quickly, his goofy grin appeared, he nudged his nose against mine before pulling back, his eyes twinkling in what I thought was amusement. "I like to think the food I intend to make would be better." He said as he walked around me to the driver's side of the car and opened the door. I followed him, quickly slipping into my seat, shoving aside the questions about why my heart was beating so fast, my breathing was uneven and my cheeks felt like they were burning.

"Wait- You're gonna actually make dinner?" I asked finally realising what he had said.

The car's engine roared to life, and the redhead beside me flashed me a wide grin before answering. "You got that right."

I will put up another chapter tomorrow.
Matt making dinner for Mello, let's see how this goes.
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