A/N: this isn't going to be my major multi-chap, since this one's definitely going to have absurdly short chapters and not be too long at all, but I'm having trouble writing the major one I wanted to do, so this is to keep the creative juices flowing and keep the updates coming. Hopefully it won't suck. *Edit: oh, and I'd like to add that just because this is under 'spiritual' doesn't mean it's going to go A LOT into religion, but... well, you'll see later. Just to be clear, Matt and Mello's views on death, life, and afterlife aren't mine. Probably. I won't say unless you ask.
Warnings: This story will have a lot of warnings, so please, look at them before you read. Thanks.
Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note. Actually, I think it's safe to say I NEVER WILL. Thus why I'm on FANFICTION.
Ohm, music! (some of the songs won't actually be related to the chapter at all, just the song that helped me write it XD)
Song of Choice: "Easier to Lie" - Aqualung
Los Angeles, California. 11:32 P.M. PDT. Friday.
It was warm out, too warm really, especially for so late at night. It was uncomfortable for him, wearing so many layers in the heat. It was a Friday. He was in California. There were people everywhere, passing him or shoving passed to get to where they were going, clearly irritated that he was standing right in the middle of the sidewalk. This was what Matt knew.
He was lonely. He could feel it in his heart. He had been searching through the city for hours, but he still hadn't found him. He was being selfish and impatient, trying to hunt his lover down when he was probably working, but it would be worth it. Mello was fine. This was what Matt thought.
Again Matt yanked his cell phone out of his pocket. Again, he saw that he had a missed call, and again, upon checking, he saw that it had not been Mello as he might have hoped. Instead it was Halle, calling to irritate him again. He couldn't quite place why he was so easily irritated with the woman, perhaps because she insisted on feeding him nonsense every time they spoke, but whatever the case he had no intention of calling her back anytime soon. If she needed to know something she could ask Mello.
Shoving his hands into his pockets Matt continued his walking, paying no mind to the annoyed looks he got from people going around him. He liked to think that, if Mello was there walking with him, he would have flicked them off. But not Matt. Matt just kept walking, keeping his goggled eyes straight ahead and not letting himself think to much.
He did that quite a lot lately.
After about a half hour of walking pretty much aimlessly he found himself at a run-down pizza place across the way. It wasn't too far from his apartment at this point, and he still hadn't found Mello, but he was starving and he gave in to the seductive scent of baking pizza coming from inside as the door swung open with each passing pedestrian. If Mello was hungry, he could feed himself later, Matt decided, strolling in.
Even with that mindset, Matt decided save a few pieces and boxed them to go. He couldn't let his lover starve again. And he knew that he would starve, if food wasn't convenient enough - the blonde's only motivation eating-wise was chocolate, and that was always on him and wasn't exactly nutritional.
The food was delicious. He loved little places like this, with cheesy Italian music playing in the background and cheap but not uncleanly interior. It was one of those cute little family places. He liked them mostly because it made him have a feeling of a cozy little home, a feeling he wasn't really all that familiar with anymore. Plus they tended to have good food, even if Matt didn't have much of an appetite these days, and he managed to fork down a piece and a half of cheese pizza before feeling too full and paying the bill.
(Not with his money, by the way. Matt didn't pay with his own money anymore.)
Smiling happily to himself Matt strolled out and headed for the apartment. He felt sure that the blonde would be there when he got home - he always was. So he wasn't too worried when he couldn't find his key in his pocket - he just knocked on the door and called, "Mello! Mel-Mel, baby, open the door, would you? Forgot my key!"
Matt expected cursing from the other side of the rickety door, but to his surprise only silence met him. But it's nearly midnight… how is Mello not home yet? Matt wondered, settling for pulling the spare key from the dorky little plant that sat outside their door and opening it that way. Indeed, the apartment was empty.
"He's always fucking somewhere lately, isn't he?" Matt inquired to no one, glancing forlornly at the chocolate bar still sitting on the side table. Mello had left it there some time he was here, and it was starting to look disgusting, but Matt had insisted Mello pick it up himself. The blonde had yet to get himself to actually do any cleaning, even it if it was that damn chocolate bar, so it had remained untouched. Stubborn bastard, Matt thought, leaving the candy and slinging the pizza onto the kitchen counter before slinking off into the bedroom to play video games till Mello returned.
But, to Matt irritation, Mello didn't return within the thirty minutes he sat down to play Pokemon Diamond (gotta love the classics) and his eyes were starting to droop. After a quick save Matt tossed the device to the edge of the bed, yanked off his clothes and crawled under the covers in only boxers. Really, Matt wasn't exactly mad at Mello. He never was. He just wished he'd come home earlier.
But then, wishful thinking had never been Matt's forte, and Matt fell asleep truly only hoping that Mello would wake him up when he arrived, no matter how late it was.
Los Angeles, California. 4:14 A.M. PDT.
"Matty… Matty, wake up, you're taking up the whole damn bed…"Mello opened his dreary eyes just slightly. In the dim light of the bedroom he could make out the slight shape of a person that was unmistakably Mello, blue eyes glinting as they caught the slight reflecting light of the moon through the window. Despite his exhaustion Matt smiled at him, a soft, loving expression he put on only for Mello.
Slowly Matt shifted to his side of the bed, but not so much that the blonde wouldn't be forced to press against him to get into bed. Mello didn't mind though - he never did - and crawled in beside him.
Matt didn't question that Mello wasn't very warm, because he never was, only wrapped his arms around the blonde and held him gently against his chest. "Love you ya' know…" Matt murmured, sighing sleepily.
He couldn't see Mello's face, but he felt sure there was a smile on his face by the tone of his reply. "Love you to, Matt."
The redhead struggled to stay awake for more words with his love, but consciousness was escaping him rapidly and he felt himself fall back into his dream world once again.
Just like every other night as of late, it was a nightmare.
Los Angeles, California. 8:01 A.M. PDT
Matt woke up alone again, his arms wrapped only around nothing but empty space.
It didn't come as a surprise to the redhead now. Mello was always busy with something, even if the blonde didn't always tell him what it was. Sure, it didn't usually last for am month, but it wasn't really that surprising either. This was Mello. This was the price of loving him.
It wasn't surprising.
But it still broke his heart a little every time.
Still Matt dragged himself out of bed and into the kitchen. And still he forced himself to make only one bowl of cereal and get only one glass of water, struggling not to notice the uneaten pizza on the counter. Doesn't Mello eat at all anymore? he had to wonder, but he threw the thought away. He probably ate at his work.
It just figured, too, that with the Kira investigation over Mello would ignore him even more.
Don't think that way. He's not ignoring you. He has to work. He's fighting some evil now, surely.
Or at least fighting that twat Near.
This thought, however mean to the little albino boy, gave Matt a comforted smile. Comforted because at least he wasn't the one that Mello hated. He could have been, easily, had Matt not allowed his grades to slip in order to be close to Mello (and have more video game time, that is). He could have been the hated number 1, and Near could have been…
Matt scowled and shoved the thought away. Near could never be what Matt was to Mello, whatever that was. Not a lover or a best friend or a fuck-buddy or however you wanted to label them. Not that they'd really been fucking all that often lately either.
He's busy. He's busy. He loves you, but he's busy.
Letting out a throaty sigh Matt flopped onto the couch, flipping on the television. Or at least, he attempted to, but he only found that it wasn't working for some reason. But then, everything in this damn apartment was broken almost constantly it seemed to him (and damned if Mello didn't complain about it just as constantly). Matt didn't bother to even try to fix it, though, instead flipping over on his back and checking his phone, which was sitting on the table. Two text messages. One missed call, one voicemail.
The call was from Halle, as was the voicemail. Matt ignored them both. The same went for the first text, also from Halle.
Halle: We need to talk. Don't ignore me please. I know you're avoiding it, but you know what we need to do no matter how much you don't want to. It's what he'd have wanted. Call me.
Matt deleted that text message without a second thought. He was tired of Halle trying to cheer him up about Mello's neglect with these stupid, vague messages. If Halle wanted to talk to him, she'd have to go through the blonde, even if he was the source of the neglect - that's simply how it went with him.
The next text surprised him more than anything else. It was from Near.
Near: Have you died? In that case, shall it be a double funeral? Call Halle back. -N
Matt sighed, exasperated. Not only because Near had made yet another comment about how it had once been a joke around Wammys that 'as soon as one dies, the other won't last long, eh?' about the two of them, but because Near was treating him like a child.
He treated it as such, texting three angry words to the albino. Matt: go away, Near. And that was the end of that; he didn't even bother reading the message Near sent next, only deleting it as it came in without a second glance and tossing the device onto the couch.
So maybe he was a little unhappy. What did it matter, really? He was unhappy all the time when Mello wasn't around. Talking to Halle wasn't going to help that, and talking to Near would only make it worse in the long run. The only person he wanted to talk to was Mello… and his video games.
Ah yes. Video games. Video games… and cigarettes.
Pulling his escape and his poison of choice from under their hiding spots (under the couch pillow for the cigs, on the counter for the DS). He didn't bother opening the window or anything, simply lighting up in the living room and flicking on his game, smiling as it lit up with a happy little ping. Matt wished he cold ping back in appreciation.
Video games were always happy to see you.
Los Angeles, California. 8:01 A.M. PDT
That was the date on the calendar. And it disturbed Matt to no end.
It had never been something that Matt consciously noticed, really, though now that he was standing there in the kitchen, staring at that ratty old tear-off day-calendar on the wall, he realized how very much he was aware of the morning routine with Mello he had been. Aware, almost enticingly so, of how each morning Mello always took care to rip off a page of the calendar and toss it into the recycling bin. Matt had always enjoyed the sound it made, and Mello had always enjoyed tearing it up and occasionally tearing the poor 'yesterday' into shreds.
A bead of sweat rolled down Matt's forehead, more from his mind stressing himself out than anything else. He didn't know why, couldn't get through the stony coldness of his own mind, but the calendar bothered him perhaps more than anything else. Something about the day, staring at him in the face, glaring at him. Whispering cruel nothings: You see Matt? You see how he's slowly abandoning everything, everyone? I'm just a calendar, but your next.
January 26. January 26. January 26. No, it's not. It's not.
Matt stepped forward and ripped the page off. And the next. And the next. In fact, he ripped and tore until the correct date stared back at him, the small squares of paper laying in a mess on the floor below the calendar, fluttering to the ground as sheets or crumpled into a wad and hitting to the ground with a soft thud. Again and again until the correct day twinkled in his eyes.
"Good…" Matt whispered, feeling that his throat was much too dry as he spoke. "Now it's right." His voice sounded strange in his ears, too low pitched, but it didn't matter to him now. He only stumbled back and sat down on the kitchen table, staring at the calendar and its correct date and the mess of crumpled papers on the floor.
And for a moment Matt thought that maybe, just maybe, he could pretend that Mello had been the one updating it all along.
February 22. February 22. February 22... Matt smiled gravely to himself. Happy birthday, George Washington. Hope you're happy.
A/N: Ah, yes. Nothing like a little history lesson from Matty.
If you're wondering "ummm?" it's because it's the first chapter. It's suppose to be a bit confusing. XD also, yes. Matt's a crazed freak. And yes, this chapter is too short. As will the rest of them be.