Happy Ending (MattxMello)

17. Fights and Sleepless Nights

Matt
I've always been able to read Mello like a book, his emotions constantly showing on his face but lately I find myself unable to tell what he's thinking. The constant fear that he's going throw his life away for something stupid prevents me from sleeping most nights and plagues me with nightmares on all of the others. It's becoming increasingly difficult to brush these thoughts off and my worry hangs over me constantly. I can tell he's bothered too, he walks like he's carrying a corpse across his back and the black circles under his eyes match mine. My sanity teeters on the edge these days, forcing my aggressive paranoia forward.

We fight over stupid things, surely due to our mutual insomnia.
"Stop! Just stop it!"
"What?"
"Just stop with the fucking games for five minutes, I need to think."
"Well maybe the games help me think. If you don't like it you can just leave the room you know."
"Why should I? Don't tell me what to fucking do Jeevas."
"I never told you to do anything. I simply stated that it would be more convenient for the both of us if you would stop your constant yapping and went to go 'think' elsewhere."
"At least I'm not the fuck up who needs video games to think. I, unlike you, have two brain cells to rub together and so can think without the aid of digital fucking plumbers!"

He's usually the first to apologize. His temper, while quick to flare up is equally quick to cool down. He'll scream that he hates me from behind a closed door but will come out within ten minutes to take it back. Some fights are worse than others because, while two out of three times I will immediately accept his apology, the other time will flare his temper up again and end with me 'sleeping' on the couch. This has to stop sometime but I assume it won't until he finally decides to tell me what's actually going through his head, what his plan is.

I get up from the computer, pick up my pack of cigarettes and head outside.
"Do you have to do that now?" Mello snaps at me.
"Yes, I do. It's the only time I get any peace and quiet these days. I need a break from your constant whining sometimes." I reply calmly, knowing full well that I was getting him worked up for nothing.
"Oh? Well then. Clearly your stupid habit is more important to you than I am, so by all means, go ahead." Mello's voice is also calm, scarily calm.
"It's not my fault." I practically whisper, my voice breaking.

"Come on Matt, it's not that bad. Just try it!" Mello has pulled us into some corner outside the main Wammy's House building. It's snowing and my hands are freezing, I'm shifting around nervously causing the snow under my feet to crunch noisily. It might just be my imagination. "I don't know... What if they catch us?" I whisper, my warm breath forming a white cloud in front of me. "They won't, don't be stupid Matt." He rolls his eyes at me and shoves the pack into my clumsy hands. "O-okay, only if you do it first though." He sighs frustratedly and takes the pack back, pulling one of the thin white sticks out. "I will." He says, as if I've challenged him. He struggles with the lighter for a second but manages eventually, putting the cigarette in his mouth. I look around nervously as he begins to smoke it. Soon enough though, he's coughing his lungs out and holding on to the wall for support. After about five minutes of this he pulls another cigarette out of the box and hands it to me. I shake my head, "Seriously Mells, this is a bad idea."
"Come on Matt, you said if I went first you'd do it. Don't wuss out on me now." I nod and put the stick in my mouth, hands shaking as I do so. He lights it for me and I manage to smoke the whole thing, to Mello's slight irritation. "Well, then. You're so good at it, why don't you just take the pack." He flings the white and blue box at me and I catch it, barely. "Come on Mells, don't be like that." I say, as I run after him.

I did keep the pack, although I didn't end up using it for a while. When Mello left, I took it out because it reminded me of him. I knew what I was getting myself into but I didn't really care. I missed Mello and any memory I had of him, good or bad, I'd welcome with open arms. He won't ever know this though, I won't tell him. He doesn't need to know.

"Oh? Who's fault is it then?" He asks sarcastically.
"Never mind. I just... I'll just go outside now." I say it quietly, the hurt evident in my voice. His face softens a bit, his blue eyes begging for an explanation that I won't give. I look down and walk out, not wanting to guilt trip him. I know he feels bad about it already.

Mello
There was one really bad fight. I think we both wholeheartedly regret that night but deep down, I know neither of us will ever be able to take back what happened, what we said.

"You really don't give a shit about how this affects me, do you?" He spits the words at me. I'd screamed at him about how hard all of this was on me and how he should 'be more considerate' and 'give me a fucking break' after he asked me for about the fifth time that day not to leave my chocolate wrappers around the apartment.
"Of course I do! I'm just saying that you could be more considerate about how tired I am is all."
"Oh? You're tired? Well, excuse me. I only don't get any fucking sleep ever because you won't tell me about your plan and its driving me crazy!"
"Has the thought ever crossed your mind that I have a reason for not telling you? You're so fucking touchy!"
"Give me one reason."
"I-I can't."
"Can't or won't?"
"I..."
"That's what I thought. I'm not the touchy one here Mihael, you're the one who can't hold a conversation for five fucking minutes without losing your temper for no Goddamned reason!"
"That's not my fault! You know it's not! You know, I bet your parents are glad they're dead cause they don't have to deal with your bullshit!"

Matt
He's crossed a line, he knows it. I can see it in his face. Unfortunately for him, I can go there too, I know just what to say to end it right now. Out of pure spite and the heat of the moment, I let the words out, I let myself deal damage that I know I can never take back.
"Oh, and I suppose your dad willingly gave you up because he wanted you? I bet he could tell from the day you were born what a fuck up you'd be and so he saved himself the trouble. Your mother must have been a fucking saint to deal with you for as long as she did!"
He looks at me as if I've physically struck him, his eyes screaming betrayal. He balls his hands up into little fists and squeezes his eyes shut. Tears run fast and steady down his red face, dripping onto the carpet. When he opens his eyes again, they're stone cold and filled with a pure hatred that I've only ever seen once before.

After my parents died, I was temporarily placed in the custody of my uncle, my mother's brother. He was a drunk, a terrible drunk. I was only there for about two months but... He managed a lifetime of scars in those two months. He would leave me at home all day without food and when he got home he would beat me, mercilessly. For hours at a time he would beat me to unconsciousness and sometimes even after that. The whole time screaming horrible things at me, screaming that I was the reason my mother, his sister, was dead. Screaming that I should never have been born, that all I would ever be was a mistake, that he hated me. Even without the words, his eyes told me everything. His eyes held a hatred that scared me cold every time. Those eyes...

Mihael's eyes triggered the memory and made me shiver. I instantly regret my words, but before I can apologize, he says something I have always feared he'd say, something I never wanted to hear from him.
"You know what? I hate you Mail, I hate you! Don't talk to me!"

Mello
Neither of us actually apologized first for that one. After I lay in our bed crying for about two hours, he came in and lay next to me, wrapping his arms around my shaking body. I think we had a mutual understanding that that night was not to be spoken of again and so we never did. Silent apologies were exchanged between blue and green eyes but we both knew that none of it was meant and all of it would stay with us. That was our last fight.