(Untitled)

[auto_matt_ic]

Who: Crossroads!Matt, DM!Mello
What: Near+Noir=Crazy Mello. Matt must be the vaccine or something. xD
Where: Mansion. Matt's room.

Comments

[addictio_n]

The closer Mello stepped to Matt's room, the heavier his remorse became. Playing with people's feelings wasn't something he'd cared much for, but this only applied to people he didn't give a damn for. This was Matt, for god's sake-- the boy who had died for a cause that wasn't even his but Mello's.

The scared Matt was scary himself. He seemed completely ruined, just like Near; both of them victims of emotional games. Mello had the ability to break everything he touched, this had been especially apparent lately. Still, he couldn't help but wonder when people had become so weak. He'd been broken all his life, his feelings crushed again and again, yet he hadn't lost his head yet. Not much.

Matt (his Matt) seemed to be different, but Mello was aware that he shouldn't push his luck and wait for the first cracks. That was why when he opened the door without knocking, he could only stare at the other boy, mentally debating whether or not it was worth to be selfish once more.

[auto_matt_ic]

His eyes immediately fixed on the door as it was swung open, revealing Mello behind it. His natural reaction was to grin, so he didn't hide it. "Hey."

He could tell--Mello was troubled. It didn't take much to read his face--the guy was almost like an open book--but it also didn't help the fact that Mello's emotions were strong. You could feel them radiating off him. Matt readjusted his legs to keep himself balanced, leaning against the arm of the chair the way he was. "You okay..?"

[addictio_n]

"Always," was the short, dry reply. Mello made his way inside the room, locking the door behind them for the sake of privacy. His first goal? The couch, sinking into it lazily.

"You okay?" he echoed, keeping the conversation both Matts had in mind. Scary as the thought was, the two boys seemed to follow a similar trait of thought.

...No, this Matt was different, he was perfectly sane. He'd survived being shot, for god's sake. What could hurt more than that?

[auto_matt_ic]

He turned a little to face the couch, watching Mello drop into it. "I'm beautiful, man." He pitched his cigarette, now burnt down to the filter, towards an ashtray. It landed inside, on top of some other cigarette butts, the lit end slowly beginning to die out.

It wasn't a lie. He felt fine at the moment. Out of sight, out of mind, or something like that. He was never as good at stressing out about things as Mello.

[ikszox]

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