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Suggested Listening: "Back in Your Head" - Tegan & Sara

Feel It in My Bones

~Back in Your Head~

I remember the first time I smoked like it was yesterday.

I remember the enormity of holding the cigarette between my fingers, the spark of the lighter before it produced a steady flame – and the way Mello's eyes flickered in the near-darkness as he sat across from me, waiting for me to take the first drag.

We were thirteen at the time, feeling more of a rush at breaking the rules than actually being excited at the prospect of inhaling a foreign substance into our lungs.

I remember wetting my dry lips, and trying my best to keep level eye contact with the blond as I brought the object up to my mouth.

And then…

Inhale. Feel as it slides like liquid to that one spot in the center of your chest. Savour. Exhale.

I especially remember the scowl on my best friend's face as I passed it to him to try. He looked down at the carpet as he inhaled. A cough, and then he was beating his chest as he deemed it 'nasty shit' between breaths.

"What a waste of money…" he had said afterwards, glaring at the package. Meanwhile, I sat in silence, already craving another. "Whatever… You might as well have 'em, 'cause I sure as hell don't want them."

Next thing I knew, he had flung the package at me and it hit me square in the goggles. I looked down at the package in my lap, and still to this day I can recall the grin that had spread across my face.

It had been the beginning of a beautiful addiction.

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

"Jesus…" Mello grumbled as he settled down on the couch. "The weather channel called for high temperatures today, but not fucking Global Warming."

I smirked in amusement as I plopped down beside him. "Maybe it's all the leather you wear; it traps the heat."

A snort sounded from the blond next to me as he flicked a piece of hair out of his face. "'Like you have any place to judge. Seriously, who the fuck wears a long-sleeved shirt and a vest in this weather?"

I flashed him a grin as I gestured to myself with my two thumbs. "This guy."

The roll of the eyes that came after my statement was the only response I needed.

Quite satisfied, I got up and walked across the space to set up the Wii I had brought over. Ever since we were twelve, I would bring over a gaming system to Mello's house and we would play for hours. Well, more like I would play – but that wasn't the point. Mello just liked to watch, I guess…

"Which game?" he inquired in a tone that implied that he was perhaps only mildly interested.

"Resident Evil 4," was the reply that came from my grinning lips as I took the disc out of its case with care and inserted it into the console.

Mello changed his tune as he responded with a suddenly more involved, "Nice." He always enjoyed the games that had gore in them.

Also, the protagonist in this one was blond.

That usually had a lot to do with it.

"Where are you right now?" Mello asked as I made my way back to the couch.

The basement was most definitely not immune to the heat wave, and as Mello was already occupying most of the couch, I opted to sit on the much cooler floor. Shrugging out of my vest, I answered him, "Just getting back to the church to rescue Ashley."

"Tch. She's a whore." The tell-tale crinkle of an aluminum wrapper behind me informed me that Mello had already started in on his first chocolate bar.

I smirked, thoroughly amused by the irony (he could almost look like her, but I wasn't going to be the one to inform him of that), and started the game.

Savouring the feeling of the cool plastic beneath my thumbs, I allowed myself to be absorbed into a world of parasites, religious cults, and overall kick-assery. It really wasn't the most… I suppose, healthy game to play, but it served to curb my boredom in a way that wasn't at all illegal.

And it was doing a pretty good job of it.

It was maybe half an hour and some fifty-odd Ganados killed, before I came to the realization that something was touching my head. I froze. The possibilities of what it could be ran through my mind faster than I could handle. What was it? The touch felt light…

I whimpered as I felt the unknown entity weave through my hair. The images continued to flash through my thought until finally I settled on one.

By God, it was a spider!

Preparing to do the whole shy-away-slowly-pretty-much-looking-like-you-were-shot-in-the-head manoeuvre, I happened to look up. Above me, Mello was looking down upon my horrified expression with a quirked eyebrow and a smirk.

"W-what are you…?" I trailed off, trying to untangle my muddled thought process.

Mello continued what he had been doing, not ashamed in the least at the prospect of being caught.

"Are you… Are you braiding my hair? That's kind of–"

He fixed me with a look. "Don't say it."

"Weird," I finished.

He shook his head, muttering as he continued his work, "'Better than what I thought you were going to say…"

I looked up at him with an utterly confused expression on my face. "What did you think I was going to say?"

"Nothing."

"C'mon… I wanna know." I pouted.

He smirked at me once more, informing me that this was one of those things that I would just have to live with not knowing. It was disappointing, but when Mello didn't want to tell me something, there was no way of getting it out of him.

He gestured towards the TV with a tilt of his head. "Leon died."

My gaze snapped back to the screen where, moments before, the former rookie cop had met his untimely end. "… Shit."

"A right shame," Mello hummed, fingers continuing to weave my hair into plaits with astonishing speed and skill.

I reached above my head to swat at his hands, frowning in annoyance. He retaliated in kind by smacking me lightly upside the head. I sighed resignedly, slumping as I realized that childish hitting wasn't going to get us anywhere.

"Why are you braiding my hair, anyways?"

"Practice."

I tilted my head back to look at him, quirking a brow. "Practice for what?"

"Stop moving," he chided me, and I brought my head back down to facing forward. "And it's practice for doing Rosette's hair in the morning; the little brat throws a bitch fit if I don't get it right the first time. So, I got bored, and seeing you in your zombified state – pun not intended – I decided you were the perfect candidate." He smirked. "Besides, you were unaware that I was even doing it for about half an hour. I would've gotten away with it, too-"

I couldn't resist: "If it weren't for those meddling kids?"

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, sure… Whatever."

I thought over his explanation before saying, "I still think it's weird."

I mean… Honestly? The leather, the icy stare, the motorcycle, the radiating vibes of badass-ness? Mello's just not the kind of person you would expect to be braiding someone's hair – even if it's for their equally as scary ten-year-old sister.

Finally having enough, Mello raked his fingers through the plaits and then messed my hair back into its default state. Satisfied, I grinned at him before jumping up to go take the game out of the Wii.

Upon returning to the couch, I looked over at Mello and narrowed my eyes thoughtfully.

"What?" He eyed me suspiciously.

"'Just considering all of my blackmail options. After all, there are so many."

The next thing I knew, a pillow connected with my face. I rolled off the couch and onto the floor.

I believe everyone knows the score at the moment…

After mere seconds, I felt a weight settle over me, and then hot breath against the side of my head as the tips of his hair ghosted over my face. I froze.

"Tell anybody, and you're dead."

Of course, he wasn't serious – neither had my blackmail comment been, for that matter – but still I fought back, and two minutes later we were wrestling in the middle of the basement floor.

Eventually seeing an opening, I used my weight advantage and pinned Mello against the floor. We stayed like that for a moment, the sound of our heavy breathing filling the room, until I looked up and our eyes connected. The atmosphere changed as quickly as the ignition of a match. I was suspended.

I watched, stupefied, as he raised himself up onto his elbows before I realized that I was leaning in towards him as well. The blood pounded in my ears, and I tightened my grip on his shoulders. This was it… This was–

His nose grazed my cheek as he whispered into my ear, "I win."

Of course.

I got off of him, plastering a forced grin onto my face. The sound of my laughter sounded foreign to my own ears. I kept my eyes trained on the carpet; I couldn't stand to look at him right then.

I couldn't stand to look into those damnable blue eyes and see my soul reflected there.

… I was fucked.

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

I couldn't concentrate at work the next day. The side of my face became well-acquainted with the grey desk at the front as I spent most of the day in a comatose state at my station. Between the rare times I actually had to rent movies to people, I barely moved a muscle.

As I sat there, my eyes would wander about the store. The usual suspects were here as always: the pair of social burnouts who always came at about noon to admire the latest indie films we had brought in, the single mother with her six kids who were no doubt wreaking havoc somewhere in the store if the noises were anything to go by, the gaggle of teen girls who always came in to 'ooh' and 'ah' at our – unfortunately – large collection of Zac Efron movies, and then that one old man who never wore anything other than that one blue bathrobe and those ratty duck slippers as he would creep about the store and hum the Star Wars theme.

My job was never dull, that's for sure.

I was perfectly content to just vegetate for the rest of the day, but – unfortunately for me – this did not rest well with others.

A hand slapped down in front of my face. I watched as an older boy ran past chasing his terrorized little brother with a cardboard cut-out of Justin Bieber before I turned my vision to the owner of the offending object, exhaling audibly. I was greeted by my little sprite of a co-worker; her dirty blonde hair was put up in a messy, casual bun, and her smart brown eyes conveyed the same look as always. It was the one that said: "You're wasting company time, Matt."

I decided to beat her to it. "I can't waste time if there are no customers to attend to."

Linda sighed. "That's not the point. Imagine how it would look to anyone who comes into the store to see an employee drooling all over the front desk?"

Slightly embarrassed, I raised my sleeve up to wipe at my mouth. Upon the discovery that there was in fact no drool, I gave the girl in front of me a glare. Linda proceeded to look quite smug.

"Do you see what I mean?" she asked rhetorically as she began to tap her multi-colored nails on the counter. "It'd be bad for business."

Leaning back to stretch in the chair I had borrowed from the back room, I answered her through a yawn, "I don't think it would be bad for business."

"Oh? What's your logic? I sure wouldn't want to be served by a guy who looks like he's been in a coma for two weeks." She shifted her weight to her right side and crossed her arms.

I pulled down my goggles to rub the tiredness out of my eyes, and then gave her a look. "We're the only video store in town. I think they'd rent videos from us even if the guy managing the desk was in coma." I paused to think about it for a moment. "Although, they would have to wait for him to wake up… You guys could play on the whole 'human interest' angle, and put ads in the newspaper saying, 'Come see the human vegetable: rent movies, buy snacks, and then poke the brain-dead employee with a stick on the way out. Fun for the whole family!'"

Linda scoffed. "Don't be a smartass, Matt."

Always making his appearances at just the right time, Near got up from the floor beside me where he had been sorting the returns. "Matt's insensitivity for the terminally unconscious aside, you really should leave him be for a while. I suspect he hasn't been getting much sleep if the bags under his eyes are of any indication."

I replaced the goggles over my eyes. I hated having my eyes exposed most the time, and Near's comment about the appearance of them made me self-conscious.

Linda turned to Near, hands on her hips. "Then he can doze in the back room. As long as there are customers in the store, we need to make sure that we are putting our best faces forward."

The sound of someone clearing their throat broke apart our little staff meeting abruptly, and we all looked over. Linda was blocking my vision momentarily and so it wasn't until she looked back at me, told me not to slack off, and then finally moved that I could see who it was.

"Oh. Uh, hi, Wedy." I suddenly was aware of the unruly state of my hair and made an attempt to pat it down as discreetly as was possible.

She gave me a carmine-coloured smile as she took off her sunglasses. "Hey, Red."

I looked at her hands and was startled at the revelation that there was no merchandise in them to be rented. "So… The movies are over there if you wanted to get any or something…" I pointed out lamely.

Wedy leaned against the counter, her smile widening to reveal her shiny pearly whites. "Actually, I'm here to talk to you. When's your break?"

I blinked dumbly. "… Right." I looked over to Linda only to see that she was currently engaged in a battle with the boy with the Justin Bieber cut-out, trying to get him to calm down before he breaks anything. I turned my attention back to Wedy. "Right now, I guess."

"Awesome." She seemed to have just noticed Near standing beside us right at that moment, because she added, "Can we talk outside?"

I nodded. "Sure thing."

Shoving my hands in my pockets, I followed her outside to the sound of her high heels clacking against the linoleum. We stopped a little ways from the store entrance. I busied myself with looking at the cars rushing past us, the bustling scenery at the café across the street, and the little birds picking the berries off of the decorative shrubbery – anything to keep my mind off of the girl standing across from me.

In the back of my mind, I imagined what Mello would do if he were here right now… Most likely punch me in the shoulder and then apologize to Wedy for me being such an antisocial pussy.

… Sounds about right.

However, I didn't have Mello here for support right now, and so I would have to handle things by myself. I would be flying solo, so to speak.

I leaned against the building, running a hand through my hair. "So, what did you want to talk about?"

"Well…" she started. I noticed at that moment that she seemed to be a tad nervous – which was weird considering who I was talking to.

Wedy really didn't seem like the type of person to be nervous about anything. She was the one who raced motorcycles with Mello outside of town on the highway when it was too late for any real amount of traffic. The one who punched Jack Donovan in the face back in Grade Four because he told her that she couldn't play kick ball with the boys. This was the girl who never chickened out on a dare, never backed down from a fight, and always hated being told that she couldn't do something just because of her gender. Wedy was a girl in every sense of the word, but she most definitely wasn't girly.

So, the way she was acting right now – trailing off, biting her lip, avoiding eye contact – just wasn't her.

"Here," she said suddenly, holding out a pack of cigarettes.

I blinked at her, confused, before taking one. "Thanks…"

We both leaned against the building, smoking in silence for a few moments. I watched her out of the corner of my eye, trying to make sense of her behaviour.

"Screw it," she sighed, exhaling a cloud of smoke at the same time. She looked over at me. "'Want to go out some time?"

Right then, I burst into a coughing fit. The smoke I had just inhaled burned my lungs, and tears sprang to my eyes.

"Jesus!" she exclaimed, clapping me on the back.

Finally, the coughs subsided and I cleared my throat.

I had… not been expecting that.

I looked over to her to see that she was regarding me expectantly.

… Right.

Did I… or didn't I? I couldn't decide either way.

She kicked off the wall, sighing, and I panicked as I realized which option she had taken my silence as. I blurted out the first thing that came to my mind.

"Sure."