I do not own characters or Death Note.

"Mello." I told him.

He grinned and carried on walking through the heavy doors.

The corridors were empty and the only sounds to be heard were the echoes of our footsteps and my ragged breathing. The ceilings were higher than an average house and the floors were covered with cold blue tiles that were not so blue anymore, but brown from dirty footprints. Each door we past had names on them: 'Thomas and Billy', 'Andy and Kevin', 'Michael and Jack', it went on forever with two names on each door. We stopped outside the last one which read 'Matt'.

So he's by himself?

"Here we are, it's not much but you can stay until you get better." The redhead said with a sweet smile.

I smiled back, feeling touched by his kindness. "Thanks."

He headed towards another door that lead to the on-suit bathroom, leaving me to look around the pale room. There were two beds with simple white sheets, a bed side table next to each and a large wardrobe in one corner of the room. Next to the wardrobe was a desk completely covered with homework and other rubbish that he obviously didn't care about. I grinned; we had more in common than I thought. Underneath the window was a TV with a game console in front of it. So, he's a gamer...

Before I could continue to look around the room, Matt walked back in with a bowl of water with a cloth and some clothes. He went and sat down on the bed opposite from me and patted the space beside him. Reluctantly, I slowly sat down next to him and he reached for the cloth. I watched as he placed it in the bowl of water and wrung it out, and then moved it towards my eye. I flinched away from him and his smile faltered.

"I'm sorry, but it's pretty bad. You need to get cleaned up."

I sighed, I seem to be doing that a lot lately, and allowed him to put the material to my face. Pain shot through my features as the coldness touched my bruised eye, but I made no move to stop him.

After a while, the pain started to fade and I relaxed a little. I looked at his face again, studying his smooth features. He had a nicely shaped jaw and strong cheek bones, probably from all the smiling.

His goggles were now nestled in his wavy red hair, making it stick up in every direction. I hadn't noticed that he had stopped cleaning my face and was watching me, a slight blush on his cheeks. I felt the heat rise to my features aswel as I realised he caught me staring.

Just before it got too awkward, he stood up and took the cloth and bowl through to the bathroom.

"Um. You can use the shower if you want to clean yourself up." I heard him say from the other room.

"Thanks." I replied. I got up, grabbed the clothes and walked through the doorway.

He was sitting on the sink with his hands in his lap. What was he doing?

Not really caring that he was watching me, I slowly pulled off my bloodstained shirt. I heard a gasp and I spun around to look at Matt again. His eyes were fixed to my chest, well, more like the huge purple patches on my skin.

"What happened to you?" he asked, concern flooded his voice.

"Nothing." I replied. I don't need to tell him what happened; it's not as if he'll care.

"It doesn't look like nothing."

I clenched my fists, holding in my anger.

"Why can't you tell me?"

"Why can't you just mind your own business?" I yelled at him, my knuckles had gone white and I felt blood trickling from where my nails had dug in to my skin. He wouldn't understand the pain and the suffering that I have lived with, being alone every day of my life. It was unbearable.

He looked hurt as he jumped off the sink, gave me a sad look and shuffled out of the door.

I sighed again; I really need to break out of this habit, and stripped off my battered jeans before jumping into the shower. The hot water immediately stung my bruises and I screwed my eyes shut. After a while, I relaxed and scrubbed my body of all the dirt and memories.

When I got out, I had a look at the clothes on the bathroom floor: a simple black shirt and matching black trousers. I pulled them on and gradually stepped out of the room. I looked around for the redhead and saw his sitting on the floor, engrossed in his game station.

I crept up to him until I was standing above his body. I cleared my throat to get his attention; he paused the game and turned to look up at me.

"Hey, thanks for everything and I'm sorry I got angry at you." I was rubbing the back of my head, nervous about what he would say.

He jumped up and before I could question him, he had his arms around my waist in a tight embrace.

"It's alright; I've always wanted a friend like you."

My face was as red as his hair and my heart beat sped up, nobody had ever hugged me before except my mother, but it felt nice. I carefully put my arms around him and smiled.

"I've always wanted a friend like you, too."