(A/N) ...This is just my opinion, but I feel my writing is way too waffly. I go on and on and on. =_='

There will hopefully be only 7-ish chapters to this, I've written 5 + 1/2. XD

Review please? It's my first fanfic, I'd like some valid criticism. :D

So, this was what is was like...

Mello hated it. He hated the way the atmosphere pressed in on him from all sides, choking him to the point where he couldn t even taste chocolate. He experimented, precariously snapping a chunk off the end of the bar with his teeth, but try as hard as he might, his mouth was dry. The usually delightful coolness that melted in his mouth was bitter and tasteless and created a lump in his throat as he attempted to swallow. It was at that moment he finally gave up. After one last longing glance, he carefully lowered the half-eaten bar onto the table in front of him, which was already a mess of countless papers and files strewn across the surface. Mello let out a muffled sound, somewhere between a grunt and a sigh, as he bent forward and put his face in his hands. His blonde tresses hung over his eyes, shielding them from... well, he didn t quite know what. God, his head hurt.


Startled, Mello lifted his gaze in response to the voice. It belonged to another guy, hunched on the couch opposite. The old, tattered thing sagged under his weight, but the man didn t seem to mind. He was wiry and slender, but his long-sleeved, stripy t-shirt was taut where it stretched at the slight swell of his muscles, and it seemed he naturally filled the space with his presence.

His mop of magenta-red hair hanging over his amber-tinted goggles gave him a boyish appearance, but at the same time they also hid his eyes, right now fixed on his handheld game console in his lap. Mello didn't know if he liked the effect of him looking virtually expressionless, but that wasn't his concern right now. He was shocked he'd even forgotten there was someone else in the room with him, barely two metres separating them.

'What, Matt?' he groaned, rubbing at his eyes. How much sleep had he had? He didn't know. Whatever, it didn't matter.
'No need to be so cold,' the red-haired guy grinned, not quite at Mello, more at the game in front of him. If he hadn't been talking to him, Mello could have sworn he was completely absorbed in that irritating blippy thing. He usually was.

'Just get to the point,' Mello said bluntly, ignoring him.
'That was the point, sort of,' Matt admitted, actually folding the console and dropping it on the table top next to the chocolate, indicating he'd had enough. That caught Mello off-guard.

'H-huh,' he mumbled brusquely, then snapped, 'What's that supposed to mean?'

'You know.'

'No, I don't know,' Mello replied angrily, feeling his voice strain. He delicately touched the hollow in his throat in surprise, ashamed by his own venom. Had that been strictly necessary?

'I think you do,' Matt said tonelessly, yet quieter than before. Mello didn't say anything, so Matt continued. 'You're so tense... you've just been sitting there, not talking, or even doing anything since you talked to Lidner over the phone. I know something's up. You're not even eating chocolate...'

'Matt,' Mello tried to interrupt, but once Matt had started, he kept at it, acting as though Mello hadn't spoken.

'...and you might have thought I hadn't noticed, but I have, and I'm saying so now. Out with it. Was it Lidner? Was it something about the case? Or maybe-'


'-could it have been to do with... something more... I don't know, personal...?'

Mello stared. Matt wasn't looking at him.

'...What did you just say?'

Matt ignored him, and kept going.

'I know to you, you're both good friends, but maybe she doesn't see it that way-'

'MATT!' Mello cut him off, slamming a fist on the table, making Matt jump suddenly but it managed to make him stop talking. Embarrassed, Mello said more calmly,

'I'm fine. It's nothing to do with the case, OR Lidner. Well, Kira does come into it, but it's nothing major. Seriously! Where the hell did THAT bullcrap come from? Why do you even care?'

There was a small silence. Then Matt said hesitantly, 'I... I don t know. I'm sorry. I was just-'

'No, I'm the one who's sorry,' Mello sighed. Damn it, Mello, he thought to himself with frustration. Just because you've got issues doesn't mean you're allowed to take it out on other people. Look where THAT got you. Matt doesn't need to get involved.

Not again.

'Matt, Lidner's just a friend, and a valuable source of information to us in this case. I thought you knew that.'

Matt looked at his boots. '... Yeah. I did. Sorry.'

More silence.

Mello didn't like it. He'd been immersed in his own thoughts, unable to concentrate on how silent and depressing it really was in this accommodation, and now he'd been yanked cruelly back to reality. No, it wasn't Matt's fault. Mello just hated to be reminded of how insecure he really was.

The awkward emptiness in the atmosphere now made his head hurt even more, and he resumed cradling his face in his leather palms.

Matt didn't, however, resume his game. As soon as he noticed Mello had gone quiet again, he tilted his head in Mello's direction and didn't move from that position.

He kept looking.

Everything about Mello was special to him.

They'd been close friends from years and years ago, way back when they were both still at Wammy's House together. They'd get up to strange, weird, yet unforgettable things - Mello always the mastermind behind the crimes, Matt following suit enthusiastically. Nothing they did ever made much sense, but Matt always enjoyed himself, despite the fact Mello was always the boss.

Mello trusted him. Matt was probably the first to ever be trusted by him... not many people wanted to come within a five-metre radius of someone who constantly got wound up and occasionally snapped, and Mello didn't care about anyone anyway. The only one he seemed to care about was Near. Matt could remember every painful detail of an evening after classes where Mello would just pace up and down the room, fuming his blonde hair sticking to his forehead, his eyes dark.
'That bastard... why is it I can never beat him? Why? I studied WEEKS in advance for that test; I don t think he even touched the textbook ONCE! So why? How is it that I work so hard and all that I can EVER achieve is second place? I HATE it! I hate HIM!... '

Matt would always try his best to calm Mello, to reassure him, tell him that he was miles better than Near could ever be but he doubted his words ever reached Mello's ears.

That hurt.

But Matt also loved how Mello showed everything he thought on his face, it made it harder for him to lie, therefore he spoke his mind over half the time. And, Mello always said, what was the point in flattering people when they obviously deserved to hear the truth? That did end up getting him into trouble, but it was an admirable feature. Matt didn't feel he could ever do that.

Mello was pretty emotional, that was true, and maybe because of this he had a surprisingly sensitive side. Whenever Matt used to hang out in Mello's room playing games, Mello would read books. At first Matt just thought he was studying, like always, but one day he glanced vaguely at the title and noticed it was Shakespeare... Romeo and Juliet. Matt had been incredulous - what a soppy choice. It was probably for English class or something. Only after what seemed hours of companionable silence, Matt could swear he heard Mello sniffle slightly before he snapped the book shut. And when he knuckled his eyes afterwards, he just claimed to have something in his eye.

Mello was unique.
Different from anyone that Matt had ever met.

And now, as he gazed at Mello, he breathed in the image:

Messed-up blonde locks, highlighted gold and russet and many other colours in the dim light of the room.

His skimpy, tight-fitting leather vest was zipped open slightly at the top, exposing his neck nicely and the rosary he always wore around it, the cross pendant swaying in empty air over his chest with the movement of his every breath.

The black complemented his strong arms, now wrapped around his knees.

His back was hunched. Matt could see the ruptures in his shoulder from the length of the scar Mello had received only recently. He knew that scar continued on to his back, over his shoulder blade, part of his neck and (once) almost-angelic face. Matt had been the one to clean him up when he found him in that state.

He looked so...

He may always act tough around other people, but Matt knew deep down that all Mello wanted was care, and warmth, and even love.
It made Matt's chest hurt, seeing Mello cradling himself like a tiny doll.

Like no-one wanted him -

Matt wanted him.

Mello's head was on fire.
It didn't allow him to think straight for even a second.
His mind was filled with only one thing:

This is what it felt like.

Mello didn't realise he was crying until he felt the palms of his gloved hands grow steadily damper, and he inwardly panicked. He wished Matt wasn't here to see him; he'd probably smirk and deliver some sarcastic remark. So he fought them back, and made sure he didn t breathe through his nose, otherwise he was sure he would have sniffed, and that would have made it obvious. Instead, he felt his insides heaving and racking with sobs that wanted to escape, but he forced his body to remain calm.

There was no need to be so dramatic all the time, Mello thought bitterly.

That's how he stayed for what felt like hours, but it must have been only minutes - Mello silently weeping. What was he crying about, really? He didn't know.
He supposed part of it was the loss of things he d never get to do.

He'd never gone back to Wammy's. Maybe he was too ashamed of facing the past. But he was sad that he'd never get the chance to make amends.

He'd never ridden his motorbike at full speed down the freeway, feeling the wind on his face and the feeling of pure adrenaline and exhilaration. Would he ever get to accomplish that now?

He'd never beaten Matt in a game of wrestling - that was humiliating. He really ought to have proved his strength in order to maintain the position as boss. The memory made him smile vaguely.

He never had beaten him in anything.
That was maybe his biggest regret.
Yet, it was necessary in these times.

Mello also found himself regretting that he'd never settled down at any point. Girls had never really held much interest for him as a kid; they were aliens from a far-off planet as far as he was concerned.

Still, he found himself thinking about Lidner. Had Matt been right? Did Lidner think of Mello as more than a friend? It shocked him. He'd never realised that as a possibility, and to be honest, he wasn't sure what he felt about that...

No, he told himself firmly. He didn't like her in that way, and she didn't like him. Why would she, anyway? Mello reminded himself hollowly. His mouth hinted the indication of a vague attempt at a smirk, but it made his eyes sting more.

He'd never allowed himself to feel for others, and he'd never been loved. No-one would ever love him...

It was then he noticed the sound of breathing.

So close to his face, he could feel it... brushing lightly across his flushed cheeks.

Mello peeked between his fists, and got a shock:

it was Matt. He was crouched down, his bangs inches from Mello's own.

Mello froze.

What the hell was Matt doing? Trying to scare him? He'd been so quiet Mello hadn't noticed him approaching, and given him the shock of his life.

Mello waited apprehensively, not sure what to do. He supposed if it was a trick, he'd pretend to be Matt's bait until he figured out what he was doing. Then he'd give Matt a shock back. Yeah...

Every second, Matt was getting closer. Their faces were now only centimetres apart. Mello could feel the heat of Matt's body enveloping him, almost like having a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. It relaxed him for a moment, and in that split second he forgot even his own anxiety.

He couldn't see beyond Matt's goggles, not in this dim light, so he didn't know if Matt had his eyes open or not.

Matt gently pulled Mello's wrists out of the way of his face.

Mello saw Matt swallow, shown by the slight dip in his slender throat, and he tried to look into Matt's eyes. What was he doing? Mello wanted answers, so he searched the dark, shiny surface of the goggles for any hint of emotion.

Matt brought his face closer, and suddenly Mello found his eyes.

They looked so large, and green... and innocent, like a child's...

and Mello was unable to tear himself away as Matt slowly, but surely brushed his lips against Mello's own...

your thoughts...? *looks hopeful*

just a few reviews would do me fine... I feel unloved. T^T