FicWad

You and I


Twenty minutes-and three more chocolate bars later-we were back at my house. It was small, nearly a part of the house next to it. It was old, smelled like cat, and of course, hot pockets. Glorious gamer food. Ham and cheese hot pockets and pink lemonade. Life couldn't be better.

"You've been quiet," I said, reaching into the fridge to pour myself some pink lemonade.

"I'm thinking, Matt, so shut the fuck up," you said, though rather lazily, as though you didn't want to put the effort into bitching me out.

"'Bout what?" I took a long gulp of lemonade and soon after a long drag on my cigarette.

"Kira."

"Sure. You're thinking about how to get to Kira first. It's not really about the rest of the world, is it?" I muttered, lifting my goggles back to my eyes. You leaned on the door frame, your eyes kindling fury, "It's the truth," I stated.

"Wrong. Whatever Kira is using to kill people isn't somethin' that people should just have," you hissed. Lies. I knew you were intrigued.

"Yeah, sure, Mello. You're not eating a lot. You do that when-"

"Shut the hell up, Matt!" you shouted, fists clenched, shoulders raised like an angry cat.

"Or what, you'll shoot me?" I challenged, "You don't really need me anyway!" I set the lemonade down, threw my cigarette in an ashtray, glaring.

"Oh, now because I didn't fuck you in the road you're throwing a hissyfit?" you snickered, "You know exactly what I've said before!"

"You can't care because you're gonna die! Well, isn't that what life is about? Or are you a coward? Afraid that life might say 'fuck you' to me first and drag me into Hell before you?" I shouted back at you.

You leaped forward, swinging a fist that connected solidly with the left side of my face. When I regained my balance I glared at you.

"So you are a coward!" With that I swung my own fist at you. You always were a better fighter than me, but I didn't care. You caught my fist, wrenching it sideways and I kicked you hard in your side. You coughed and sent yourself at me again, this time knocking me down to the linoleum tile floor.

You punched me and my goggles flew off-you'd broken them before-and they slid across the floor. I felt blood drip down the side of my face from my forehead. You punched me again- now my lip was bleeding.

You knelt over me, panting, eyes full of hurt, still trying to get air into your lungs again.

But that's what I'm here for.

"I'm-" you started, but I wasn't going to let you finish.

"Don't apologize," I muttered, raising a hand to my forehead, wincing when I touched the mess under my fingers. I'd probably bruise pretty badly this time. You looked away. "We meant what we said."

"I don't care about him, Matt. I hate him. You know that."

"Mello, Iknow," I said, blood trickling down my face still, "But it-"

"Yeah, we're complicated," you said and cut off anything I was going to say with akiss to my bloodied lips. I winced- you weren't exactly being gentle. It didn't matter.

Perhaps that's my favorite thing about life- it just goes on.

"Don't. Apologize,"I said firmly as you opened your mouth to speak. I got up, shoving you off to go take care of the blood on my face.

I went to the bathroom and wiped crimson away from my pale skin. I knew there was probably blood in my hair- yes, you could barely tell. It was just barely matting my hair, but I simply brushed it. My hair was just as red as the blood. It didn't matter.