Thursday, December 25th

"Shit, shit, shit."

Mello was pacing around the living room like a mad man.

"Are you going to tell us what is upsetting you, or do we have to figure it out on our own?" Light dryly questioned.

"Ask L," Mello snapped, glaring at the both of them.

He wasn't sure if it was the fact that he had taken L's advise and told Mail everything that was channeling his anger in the direction or his brother, or the fact that he was still a little jealous of L's 'happy relationship.' Either way, L's calm expression was only adding to his frustration.

"Give him time to cool down," L instructed.

"That's what I'm doing," he venomously retorted.

"Maybe you should cool down as well," L muttered.

"Shut up," Mello yelled.

"Mello—"

"I just ruined everything, and would greatly appreciate it if you didn't make commentary," he cut him off.

"Fine."

Mello was about to shout something else (he wasn't sure what but he would figure it out once he started talking), when his thoughts were interrupted by his phone ringing. He ignored the 'I told you so' look that L was giving him as he fished the device out of his pocket. As he thought, it was Mail calling him.

"Hi," he kept the greeting simple, afraid that he would say something to offended the other boy.

"I'm ready to talk," Mail stated.

"Okay," Mello stopped himself from breathing a sigh of relief. "Where are you?"

"Meet me at Denny's," he didn't phrase this as a question. "The one near your house."

"Okay," Mello said again.

Mail hung up.

"I need ride," Mello said as he shut his cellphone.

"I can drive you," L stood up. "Since I have a license in this country."

"You said you wouldn't tell him," Light glared at Mello.

"I didn't." Were he not shaking with nerves at the prospect of talking to Mail, Mello might have laughed at this.

"I know everything," L informed his boyfriend.

"You'll get used to it," Mello added.

"You can just drop me off here," Mello said to L as they pulled up in front of the restaurant.

"Are you going to be alright?" L asked.

"Yeah," Mello shrugged. "I dug my grave, didn't I?"

"I suppose you did." L had never been the best at pep talks.

"I'll call you if I need a ride back," Mello told him, opening his car door.

"I'm only driving back if things don't go well," L replied. "If not, you and your boyfriend are walking back together."

"Thanks?" Mello wasn't sure how else to respond.

"You're welcome."

With that L drove away.

"Weirdo," Mello mutter with the hint of a smile.

He took a breath before entering the restaurant. Finding Mail's table was easy, it took him seconds to spot the redhead. Mail looked up as he approached, and Mello was glad to find that the boy's brow was no longer tight with anger. Mello's eyes trailed over the two half eaten meals on the table. Someone had been here with Mail earlier. Mello reasoned that this was probably Linda, seeing as she was the only one aside from himself who Mail had told about the online relationship. Mello sat down in front of Linda's food.

"Do you want to break the awkward silence, or should I?" he regretted saying this the second that it left his lips, not knowing how they would sound to Mail.

"I can," Mail's face did not hint to amusement but his tone was no longer tight.

Mello was relived.

"I broke my promise," Mail stated.

"What?"

"Not the freak out," Mail explained with a pained smile. "I think yelling my head off and storming out counts as freaking out."

"You had the right to react like that," Mello said, eyes tracing the table.

"I know," Mail told him. "But I don't want to stay mad."

"You don't?" Mello tried not to let his excitement show in his voice.

"I don't," Mail repeated. "So give me a reason not to."

"I'm sorry—"

"Not like that," Mail stopped him. "I don't want an apology or an excuse. I want an explanation."

"You want to know why I didn't tell you," Mello rephrased.

"Yes."

"I was jealous," Mello confessed.

"Of yourself?"

"Of the person you thought I was," Mello clarified. "You were looking for someone who didn't exist, and every time I heard you talk about him I felt sick."

"What about him wasn't you?" Mail questioned. "You were the person at the party and the person I was messaging. You're the one who said and did those things."

"Yes," Mello allowed. "But I'm not just that."

"I understand that," Mail interjected at this.

"You understand that now," Mello corrected. "I couldn't tell you I was Mello because you expected Mello to be this perfect fantasy."

"No I didn't," Mail muttered.

"Well you acted like you did," Mello said flatly. "You were talking as if you already knew him, already knew me."

"Well we talked all the time," Mail defended.

"Online," Mello pointed out. "We only knew vague details about each other. If you knew me so well from talking, wouldn't you have been able to realize it was me?"

"I thought I would," Mail admitted. "But maybe I'm not as smart as I thought."

"No, you're very smart," Mello needed to tell him.

"You were able to figure it out," Mail reminded him.

"Because of a coincidence," Mello shrugged. "I got lucky. I wouldn't have been able to tell by just talking to you alone."

"If you didn't want me to think of you as Mello, then why did you tell me in the first place?" Mail asked.

"It's not that I didn't want you to know," Mello started. "I didn't enjoy keeping it from you, but I wanted you to know Mihael first."

"I've known you for the past two months."

"Fine, I wanted you to love me," Mello sighed, unsure how to say this flat out without sounding over exaggerated. "I really like you, and I hoped that I could get you to want who I really am as much as you want the fantasy version of me. If I told you from the beginning I would never be able to live up to that perfect persona. I told you after you asked me out because I thought that you had moved on from Mello."

"I have."

Those words stung.

"Okay," Mello felt the need to keep talk. "What about Mihael?"

"I don't know," Mail sighed. "I'm still angry. I don't know how not to be."

"I understand—"

"No, you don't," Mail told him. "I'm angry, but at the same time I'm not. I don't know how to forgive you, but I don't know how to give up on you either."

Mail covered his eyes with his hands, exhaling in exasperation. Mello wanted to promise him that he'd never lie, that he'd never betray Mail's trust ever again, but he knew that the words would sound empty. He hated himself for causing this mess, but, at the same time, he doubted that he could have done anything better. He still stood by his reasons. But he hated that it was hurting the both of them this much.

"What can I do to make it easier?" Mello finally asked.

"You could tell me that you're a jerk, and you don't like me, and leave my life forever," Mail dryly told him, not moving his face from his hands. "But none of that would be true, would it?"

"Maybe the jerk part," Mello shrugged.

Mail laughed, looking up to stare at Mello.

"Can I apologize?" Mello asked. "Because I do mean it."

"Yeah," Mail grinned weakly. "Go ahead."

"I'm sorry."

"I believe you," Mail's voice was soft, but Mello heard it clear as day.

"If you give me a second chance," Mello spoke cautiously. "I promise I'll do everything I can not to mess up this badly."

"Can we just start over completely?" Mail's question seemed to surprise the both of them.

"You mean pretend that none of this happened?" Mello inquired.

"Not exactly," Mail thought for a second. "Can we clean the slate? Act like you never did anything wrong or right. Act like I didn't say any of the things that you resented or the things that made you want me."

"Why not," Mello agreed without hesitation. "Where do we start?"

"I don't know," Mail raked his hand through his bright red hair.

"Hello, I'm Mihael," Mello greeted him as if they had never met before. "But my family calls me Mello."

"What should I call you?" Mail played along.

He considered this.

"Mello."

"Okay," Mail smiled. "Mello, do you have any money? Because Linda forgot to pay for lunch."

"Yeah," Mello chuckled. "I can pay, Mail."

"Matt," he corrected.

Mello gave him a confused look.

"You can call me Matt," Mail explained.

"Sure," Mello agreed. "Thank you, Matt."

"For what?"

"Everything," Mello laughed.

"You're making this cheesy," Matt complained.

"I know," Mello replied. "But it was cheesy from the start."

This is the last chapter, but there will be an epilogue (not just because a certain Kat had been begging for Mattie and Mels to song again). Thanks to Corliss Kat, Electronic Ink 0, and Anonsass for reviewing!

So...what do you guys think? Did Matt make the right choice? Was making them start over with reintroducing names as corny as it was in the end of Butter (sorry if anyone likes that book)?