Death Note Fan Fiction ❯ Godless ❯ Old Scars ( Chapter 2 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

A/N: Hola. Chapter two. Ok, so the beginning of this may be a little confusing. It kind of jumps into the middle of something that has been going on for several years. I tried to keep both Matt and Mello as in character as possible.
Disclaimer: Death Note belongs to Takeshi Obata.
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“Mello?” Matt whispered, wrapping his arms around the boy who lay sleeping peacefully beside him. Blue eyes opened and without a word the blonde shifted to look him in the face. Matt had to look away for a moment before he continued speaking. “What am I to you?”
Mello sighed heavily. Two thirty in the morning and Matt was ready to start a fight. Mello knew nothing he said would satisfy the redhead, so he simply said the logical thing. “Matt, we are not having this discussion right now. Remember the last time? You ended up walking out on me.”
“You called me a whore!” Matt shot back.
“I'm aware of that,” Mello snapped. “But it was provoked.”
“How?” Matt asked. “By me asking why you're with me if you think you're damned for it? I wanted to know. I still want to know. I feel like I'm losing you.”
The blonde turned away in favour of swinging his legs over the side of the bed. Silently he got up and went to stand at the window, opening it and letting the night breeze toss his long golden hair back out of his face. Just the cold made him feel a little bit better; Matt hated the cold, but it helped Mello think. He could feel the cool metal of his rosary against his bare chest as he stood looking out at the cloudy sky. True, he hadn't been around as much lately. True, he had once made the mistake of telling Matt that they were both damned. True, Matt knew full well that he still hated himself for this. But that didn't mean a thing. Beyond everything else he still loved Matt, even if he did think it was a sin.
“Matt,” he said so softly it was hardly audible. “Why do you insist on bringing that up?”
The redhead studied the blonde's back as he spoke. “I need to know where we stand. How can you love me if you're so dead set against it? I feel like I'm losing you.”
He heard the blonde sigh again before receiving an answer. “I just do. We'll talk in the morning. Until then I'm sleeping on the couch.”
There was a soft thud as the window closed and Matt watched him leave before curling up and closing his eyes again. Mello hated questions like that, but Matt really did feel like he was losing him. With a sigh he got up to follow.
Quietly the blonde padded down the hall to the living room. Moonlight dappled the small space and he knew that Matt had followed him, but chose to ignore him. He kept his back to the hall as he lay down and pulled the blanket that had been carelessly flung across the back of the couch over him. It wasn't until he felt the redhead's weight against the couch that he acknowledged him at all.
“Go back to bed,” Mello said, turning his back to him.
“Mel,” came a soft voice and gentle fingers through his long hair. “Talk to me Mel.”
“Go back to bed,” Mello repeated.
“Not until you talk to me,” Matt said, draping an arm over Mello's shoulder.
The thin blonde shoved the offending limb back at its owner and sat up to stare at him. “I'm trying to sleep. I thought I'd do you a favour and go away. You woke me up in the middle of the night to ask me questions that ended in a fight last time you asked them. Go back to bed.”
“Look I shouldn't have asked, I know that,” the redhead said.
“Then why did you?” the older boy hissed, annoyed at not being permitted to sleep.
Matt shook his head. Quietly he took his hand back and got up to leave, rubbing his left forearm harshly as though cold. This didn't go unnoticed by Mello.
“Sit your sorry ass back down,” the blonde commanded. The redhead obeyed, not meeting his gaze. “Show me.”
Obediently Matt pulled back his sleeve. Nothing but faded track marks and old scars. He'd straightened himself out years ago; Mello had seen to that. Still, though, the elder didn't trust him. He watched with vague disinterest as the seemingly apathetic blonde took his arm by the wrist. Matt knew better than to trust Mello's expression; he did care even if he didn't show it very well. Once the other boy seemed satisfied, Matt pulled back again and got up to leave. This time, however, he was headed for the front door rather than the bedroom. It would be cold since he wasn't wearing a coat and it was November, but he didn't care at the moment.
“Where exactly are you going?” Mello said, watching the younger boy from his perch on the couch.
“Out,” was all the answer he got.
“Not tonight,” the blonde replied. “Come here.”
Slowly Matt turned back to him. “I thought you didn't want me bugging you.”
Mello sighed. “I've changed my mind. You're not leaving like this.”
“Mel, it's been two years. You can't tell me you still don't trust me,” the gamer said softly as he settled cross-legged on the floor across from Mello.
Mello just stared at him and answered flatly, “Not with that I don't.” Not with his well-being.
“Mel -”
“No.” And the look on Mello's face told Matt that there was no debating this. “Come here.”
Matt went to sit next to him, but wriggled away when an arm snaked around his waist. Mello was well known for his nearly bi-polar mood swings, but that was pushing it. Matt knew what the blonde was really looking for.
“What's up, Matt?” Mello asked, looking concerned.
Matt just stared at him as though he was an idiot. Mello had noticed. Mello noticed everything. That didn't mean Matt had to play along.
“You know exactly what I mean,” Mello retorted. He could read Matt well enough that the redhead didn't have to say a word. He took a few seconds and his expression quieted. “You've lost weight.”
Just to be irritating because Mello had brought it up in the first place, Matt mocked offense. “Am I not allowed to do that?”
“No,” Mello replied dryly. He had watched Matt's weight plummet three years ago with the drug addiction, so the feel of his too-thin form was disquieting. “What's wrong?”
“Oh, now you want to talk,” Matt said, rolling his eyes.
Mello shook his head sadly. “Yes. And it was obvious that you wanted to as well, so talk to me.”
“There's nothing to tell," Matt said. He seemed suddenly tired and leaned into Mello. Once again the blonde was permitted to feel Matt's slightly skeletal form against him and scarcely refrain from wincing as the memories came flooding back. He never wanted to see Matt like that again.
“Sleep, then,” Mello said soothingly as he ran his hand down Matt's back. “You look terrible. Your eyes are all dark.”
Matt attempted to rise, but found himself restrained. Mello watched him cautiously for a moment before tugging him back and forcing him to lie down. The redhead shuddered as he felt the warmth of the blonde curled up at his side. Arms held him, pinned him, making sure that he would harm neither Mello nor himself. And that made sense. After all, Mello still didn't completely trust him.
“Stay,” Mello whispered. Matt didn't have to see him; he could feel Mello's blue eyes boring into him as though he could somehow extract answers simply by staring long enough. “Just sleep. We'll sort everything out in the morning.”