The Only One That Matters

Mafia

"Hey Mello, where're you goin'?"
"Out"
"Where?"
"I don't need to answer to you, shut up"
Mello stepped out into the icy January night. He began shivering, but he didn't care, he needed to clear his head.

He had gotten in with the mafia when he accidently killed one of their rival gang's leaders who had tried to mug him. He wasn't a necessarily large man, and Mello quickly fought him off with his fists and while being caught up in the moment, hit over the head repeatedly with the very gun he had been threatened with. Most of the Mafia members feared him, and he liked it that way, although it had come with a price. He had made quite a reputation for himself.
Mello shuddered at the memory of that day.
Sure, he acted tough around them, he had to maintain his reputation, but the idea of killing someone made him sick. No matter what happened, he refused to let himself become accustomed to such an atrocious crime.
With his eyes shut tight he took a deep breath, feeling the cool air circulating his being, making him feel slightly better. He hadn't felt like himself in so long. He believed he was only a hollow shell of his former self, acting out things he had only imagined doing in his worst nightmares. But finally being alone, only under the gaze of the moonlight, he was brought back to reality.
"Oh Matt, you would not believe what I've been through" he half chuckled to himself.
A sigh escaped his lips as he began wandering aimlessly in every which direction, eventually stopping to just stare at the moon. Somewhere deep down inside him, he hoped Matt could see it too.
"I haven't done much of anything that I enjoy since I left..."
He sank to the ground, pulling his knees to his chest, feeling like the child he never got to be.
"Mostly because you're not around..."
A light yet bitter wind sent his hair spinning about his head, causing him to lose track of his words. He usually tried to speak to Matt every free opportunity that presented itself. He figured if he did, they were still together in some small way.
"I hope you're still doing well and that you don't want to kill me...because I miss you. A lot"
Despite himself, a tear rolled down his cheek. He quickly wiped it away cursing to himself and shutting his eyes tight to try hold back the worst of it.
"Dammit...I couldn't let them control me anymore. I'm sorry. You know I would never leave to hurt you I just...I couldn't stay"
There he sat, long after he had fallen silent, feeling the wind growing stronger,pushing him backwards and continued to stare at the moon. He almost hoped he would hear Matt respond.
"Well, goodnight" he whispered, standing up shakily, like a baby deer taking its first steps and wandered back to the hideout.
As he approached the entrance, he heard banging and shouting, sending his nerves on end.
"What is it this time?"
His teeth grinding, he flung the door open, boots stomping on the ground, causing his steps to echo ominously throughout the building, hoping there was a good explanation for this disturbance.
"What the fuck is going on in here?" He barked, barging into the basement. Five men, including Rod Ross were crowded around a man apparently tied to a rickety wooden chair.
"He was found snooping around here. We got him before he could run off, didn't we?" Rod Ross questioned the man condescendingly, patting his head, which was under a rather old looking potato sack.
"I see. Let me deal with him."
The guys took a step back, muttering under their breath, allowing him to do whatever necessary to make sure this would never happen again.
"So what brought you lurking around here, huh?"
Mello ripped the bag off his head, catching his nose and ears roughly in the fabric.
"Aahh!" The young man gasped, panting heavily. He fried to flick his hair out of his eyes but to no avail.
"I couldn't breathe under there!"
Mello's eyes widened in shock, his feet stumbling backwards as he tried to comprehend the situation. Those eyes, those green eyes he could never even hope to forget...

"Matt?"