The power of your love compelled the internet to work again. Sorry about that hiatus. Something big is coming, though. Which means I was (am) in writer's block anyway. I have up to 14 ready for all of you, though. This chapter starts to show of my foreign language fetish for the first time.

"I'm sorry."

I looked up, slightly taken aback by the apology. I waited a second, staring at Matt, to see if he'd continue with a reason. But he was already halfway into his room and wasn't turning around, his striped back retreating from me. "Wh-what?" I blurted before he was too far gone. He paused in closing his door to look at me. "What for?"

He flushed an impressive shade of red and ducked his head. "I-I don't know. You looked like you were in a bad mood... so I thought... I dunno, maybe you didn't like coming? Maybe you hated it? S-so I'm... I'm sorry." He rubbed the back of his neck.

I blinked, unsure of how to answer. When he made a move to close the door again I quickly cleared the space between us and jammed my foot in the door's way. He stared at me, his eyes wide behind the goggles, his lips already parted to ask. I held up my finger in a 'wait' sort of gesture and he closed his mouth, watching me carefully, looking ready to run like I might attack him.

Of course I hadn't hated my visit to Matt's house. I quite enjoyed it. I sort of wished Roger would butt the fuck out, but I understood the precaution. The only reason I was peeved off was because I really would have preferred to stay at Elsewhere for a bit longer. But again, that was pretty much all on Roger. I was in no way mad at Matt nor was I displeased with our trip in the slightest. But, again, I was this type of person. Telling Matt straight-up, to his face that I liked visiting his house was... hard to do. Pretty much admitting I ever liked anything was a task. Those were the words that stuck in my throat and threatened to suffocate me. Because words were hard to take back, I knew. And I dreaded the thought of ever saying words I'd want to take back. On the other hand, if I didn't deny it, if I didn't inform Matt that he was wrong, that I liked the trip, he wouldn't take me back. Which was, honestly, the only thing that stopped me from strangling Roger until he gasped his last breath.

Matt was still watching me, looking very distressed at my prolonged silence, but he kept his mouth shut. I lowered my finger to look him in the eye. He flinched, but stood his ground. For some reason I'd expected him to dive into the room the second I moved. "Idiot," I stated. He mentally recoiled from the word, but bowed his head and took it. I grabbed his chin and lifted his face. "Don't look like an abandoned puppy! You're such a fucking pessimist!" I huffed as his face reddened. "I'm not mad, and I didn't hate the visit." I muttered.

"R-r-really?" He stuttered.

"... Well, maybe I'm a little mad. But not at you, okay?"

"My-"

"At Roger." I concluded before he could even assume I would have anything against his mother. "Because you're right, he's really untrusting. Not like I didn't see it coming from Roger, the bastard." I rolled my eyes. "So quit with the lost-puppy act and grow a spine, will ya?" I spat.

He grinned. "'Kay, Melly~!" He chirped up.

"Why you--!" I growled, clenching my fist while my brain warned not to hit.

"See ya in the morning," He leaned over, standing a bit taller to kiss my nose before quickly vanishing into his room, the lock's click warning it was futile to try to get in. I felt my face heat up as I violently rubbed my nose with my sleeve and slunk off, feeling defeated, to my room to get some sleep. Hopefully.

I woke up, dazed and unrested, to fall out of my bed and manage to get dressed without getting off the floor. I didn't quite have the sense to knock on the wall or yell for Matt as I tried to steady myself on my own feet. Once it seemed I was something close to a condition suitable for walking I left my room. It then occurred to me to wake up Matt. So I paused for a yawn, readying my fist to hit his door.

"Morning~!"

I halted, blinking some sleep from my eyes before sluggishly making my way towards the voice. "Morn... ing?" My eyes widened and Matt laughed at my expression.

"Got some food, so I decided to have breakfast here instead. Is that okay with you?" He smiled from the stove.

"... You can... I mean, you know how to... I didn't think you could...."

"Cook?" He prompted. "Just because I chose not to doesn't mean I can't."

"What are you making?"

"Simple stuff." He assured. "I never eat breakfast with you, so I don't know what you like. Omelettes, hash browns... do you prefer ham or bacon?" Watching the red-headed, goggle-wearing, stripe clad boy cooking might have been funny, had I not been so awe-stricken.

"Oh... um... whatever's fine." I murmured back.

"Bacon, then?"

"Sure...."

"Say, Mello? Are you okay? You sound out of it."

"I didn't sleep well," I muttered, ruffling my own hair, an action that took me by surprise. Matt gave me a concerned look. "I had nightmares about freezing to death in a half frozen pond-lake," I teased.

He smiled a little, but not quite enough for my taste. "I'm sorry," He mused, and I knew he meant about what he'd done the previous night.

"Shut up. You apologize too often, Welpe*." I waved a hand dismissively. He blinked at me, taken by surprise. I ignored him, knowing he wouldn't have the guts to actually ask me what I had called him. And of course he proved me right by going back to his cooking. I listened to the sound of bacon sizzling and snapping. It didn't take long before Matt set a plate of food in front of me, snapping me out of a half-asleep daze I couldn't recall entering.

"What do you want to drink?" He asked, turning to the fridge.

"Huh? Oh, no, I'll-," I tried.

He motioned for me to stay. "It's fine, I'm already up," he assured.

"... You know, I'm really not mad at you."

"Hm?"

"It just seems an awful lot like you're trying to be really nice to me." I gave him a weary look.

"You're imagining things," he promised. "How about chocolate milk?"

"What a poor distraction," I muttered. "Stop trying to pamper me. It's creeping me out."

He sighed. "Honestly, Mello, I'm really not. Is it so hard to believe I'm like this 'cause I want to be? We have food, so I thought I'd cook. I'm standing, so I thought I'd get you a drink. If you're just gonna be critical, then fine. I won't do it again."

There was something in Matt's voice I'd never heard there before. A certain air of perverseness? A hint of anger, even? I guess it had never occurred to me that Matt had it in him. Which was terribly rude of me, and I felt like if Linda gave me a slap, I might not hold it against her. Because in thinking that Matt would never repent, I was doing just what she told me not to, and just what I said I wouldn't. I was treating Matt like a tool. Using him like he had no feelings at all. He was already returning to the table with a cup of orange juice, presumably for himself. "Drink....," I murmured.

"What?" There was still a sour note to his tone.

"Get me a drink," I ordered. He gave me a dirty look, and I swallowed my pride, if only for a second. "Please?"

His face was quickly overthrown with shock, and for a second I regretted saying that word. I was sure I'd never live it down. He'd hold it over my head until the day I died - provided we actually kept in contact to that point. But when a smile took over his expression, it wasn't the one I had expected. It wasn't a smirk or snicker or anything of that nature. It was just a smile. And with the smile he happily turned on heel to get me a drink and return to the table, setting it in front of me.

"Ya know, Matt...?" I pawed at my omelette with the fork, hesitant to try it. How good a cook could he be? He lived off ramen, for Christ's sake! He was already eating, though, and he spared a glance up at me. "Because of this we'll leave for class together." Confusion clouded his eyes. "You have no excuse to skip," I warned icily.

He almost choked on his mouthful of food in his haste to swallow it quickly before he burst into laughter. "Mello, you're always worried about those sorts of things! It's no wonder people never talk to you. You're such a stiff!" He laughed.

I frowned, blushing, and shoved a large portion of my omelette into my mouth, chewing and swallowing it quickly. "Well sor-ry!" I huffed back. "But you have to deal with me. Unless you wanna go whining to Roger about wanting me gone, ya pansy," I bit.

He smiled. "Never. Things were boring before Mello moved in," he assured, only turning my face a deeper shade of red. "After Kousuke... and before Mello, I was alone here....," he murmured, his expression softening. He rested his chin in his hand, elbow on the table. "You know... even someone like me can get lonely."

I flinched, quickly shoveling food in my mouth. Because I knew I wouldn't have anything smart to say to that. Only something either crude or much too corny.

"Mello's probably the same way," he continued. I wasn't even sure he was really talking tome anymore. "You seem like the kind of person who spends most of their time on their own. But once in a while... it gets kind of dep--"

"Never," I cut him off. "I like being alone. And not once has being alone ever left me with any negative feelings at all, ever," I assured.

"Oh?" He scuffed his feet across the ground a few times before snatching up his empty dishes. "I guess it's just me, then," he concluded, dropping the dishes in the sink. "Just leave the dishes there for now, 'kay? I'll wash them when I come up during lunch break." He waved a hand dismissively at he exited the kitchen.

"Smoke break, you mean," I muttered after him, dropping my dishes in the sink and heading off to search for my shoes. "You're gonna die young, you know that?"

"Eh," he shrugged. "Better to do what I like and die young then withhold myself and live longer," he decided.

I didn't agree, but I couldn't disagree. So I left it at that as I fetched my shoes and Matt laced up his combats.

*Welpe="Puppy" or "pup" in German