Wow, what time is it? 5:49? I could not sleep. I think I decided to give up trying at 2, watched anime until 3, played games until 3:40, downloaded Poisoned, played that until 4:30, watched Youtube videos until 5:20, then decided to write a fanfiction. It's been a while since I've written anything for Death Note. Well, here it is.

Summary: Matt deals with Mello and his equally formidable pride.


That's what it always comes down to, at least, with him it does.

It's no wonder everyone he comes into contact with describes him as "a right terror." He's not so bad, really. He's just…very proud. Very, very proud. I find it endearing. Oh, but I can't say that.

Too embarrassing.

For him.

I don't mind it, though I don't mind much of anything. The only thing is that his obstinacy causes a lot of unnecessary problems. Like now, for instance.

Mello is my roommate.

This fact alone has given me a reputation. Something along the lines of tolerant on a saintly level or foolishly brave. Truly, I'm neither. But it makes sense, knowing the way Mello deals with people. But what people don't know is that there really are three of us in this little room. Me, Mello, and his ego. It can be a little bit of a problem.

I mean, instead of just taking Linda's unfinished chocolate bar when she offered, he just had to push her down and seize aforementioned confection by force. He's a hard guy to understand, but I think he and I know each other really well.

It helps in times like these.

I know something about Mello, you see.

He's afraid of the dark.

That's a normal fear, isn't it? Nothing to be ashamed of…well, it is if you're Mello.

Too much for his ego, I think.

But since he won't admit it, he needs to keep making excuses for why he won't let me turn the lights off to go to sleep.

There are only so many hours a Chinese Evergreen can negotiate nutrition from light.

I'm a computer geek, I googled it.

I play along, though. It makes him feel better and it protects his pride. Besides, I know why he's scared. Well, not the whole story, but it has something to do with the way he became orphaned, and that's never a subject to be touched on lightly.

So I go with it. Can't do that for much longer…I'm starting to get these nasty bags under my eyes from the sleep deprivation. Mello isn't the only one with sensitive sleeping habits. Another two days and the bags will be saggy and inflated enough to inhibit my ability to wear my goggles.

So, tonight, I'm going to do something about it.

No nightlights this time.

Last time I tried that in the misnomer Operation Cannot Possibly Fail, Mello tried shoving it up my…nevermind.

I have a wonderful, splendiferous plan I've nicknamed Operation Cannot Possibly Fail a Second Time which I will enact once Mello returns from his after-dinner study session. At the sound of the doorknob, I begin plugging in the lava lamp. Mello opened the door only to take a step back at the flash of blue light.

"Ah! Matt, what the hell?" I smile from my position on the carpet.

"Roger bought me a lava lamp! It's going to be so cool. He says it takes about half an hour to warm up. Do you think it's ok to leave it on the ground? It's supposed to get really hot."

Damn it.

Operation Cannot Possibly Fail a Second Time is stressing me out.

Talking too much…

Mello shot me a skeptical look as he heaved his painfully large stack of books onto his bed.

"Whatever. Dude, lava lamps are for hippies and stoners. Are you taking drugs now?" He feigned concern. How touching.

"No, Mells," I said, knowing the nickname pushed some buttons. "I'm not on drugs. I just like lava lamps." Mello gave me a scrutinizing look before turning back to his homework, muttering something about how he shouldn't have let me go outside last week. True to Roger's word, the lava lamp stayed inwardly inactive for about half an hour, during which Mello followed his nightly routine.

Brush teeth, wash face, moisturize, brush hair, yell at me, put on pajamas, move his homework, and climb in bed.

Seeing as I was also prepared for nighty-night, I moved to turn the lights off. I noted with a quick sting of discomfort that Mello tensed as I approached the light switch. Feeling a little less guilty than most nights, I was able to flick the lights off and climb into the bed opposite Mello's. The soft, shifting glow of the new lamp floated across the room, bathing everything in an alien sort of green. It made Mello's face a bright emerald and I had to remind myself that this was not a video game and I did not have to shoot Mello with the gun I keep in my drawer.


I like playing Russian Roulette.

It's a toy gun anyway.

Don't get so excited.

Through the dimly illuminated din, I could see Mello's features contort in a confused sort of disapproval.

"Turn off your gay little lamp." I smirked.


I could see it in his face, Mello was caught between relief and his nagging sense of pride. Take a guess at which prevailed.

"Come on, I need to sleep so I will be sufficiently rested and all the more able to beat Near on the next exam."

Excuses, excuses. Now, it was my turn to think of one.

"The low-level lighting is good for your Chinese Evergreen." Mello was almost satisfied, but I knew his pride had one more push left.

"I swear Matt, if you don't turn it off right now, I will and if I have to turn the damn thing off, it's going right where the nightlight went." A quick wave of panic washed over me, but I disregarded it.

I would win this battle.

Not for my pride.

For his.

"You'd like that wouldn't you?" Almost instantly, I could feel the thud of a pillow hitting my head and a furious screech. It died out and I knew it would be the end of our little tiff. Now we could all rest.

Me, Mello, and his ego.

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