Ā Ā Ā āSorry isnāt going to change shit,ā comes his answer, spoken in a low voice that belies his fury.
Ā Ā Ā Mello hasnāt seen Matt in years, and yet, he canāt bring himself to look at him. His temper, well known around that sorry excuse for a House, has never been easy for him to deal with, even though he has had ample opportunity to learn the ins and outs of it. He can maintain a level head when everything is going his way, but right now and for the past few weeks, he has been fueled by nothing except a white-hot anger. All the progress he had made toward his goalāgone, lost to that bomb his hand had been forced to detonate. Matt couldnāt possibly understand what they were up against now. He couldnāt possibly understand that any mistake they made going forward could be the end to what Mello had staked his life to achieve. He just wanted to see meā¦ what a damn fool.
Ā Ā Ā Mattās lips linger near his cheekāasking for forgiveness, asking for something else that Mello used to give him in what felt like a different lifetime than this one. Still, he doesnāt relax, nor does he pull away. Mattās grip on his wrist would be easy enough to break, but he doesnāt break it. His lungs draw in the scent of cigarette smoke with each breath he takes, and damn, he would be lying to himself if he said he didnāt miss him too after all this time. He was glad that he had come; he needed Mattās help, but fuck, couldnāt he have been smarter about tracking him down?
Ā Ā Ā Mello glares at a crack in the wall to his left, his back resting against a wall behind him. āIf you are not going to use your head, then I donāt want you here, Matt. Youāre sorry? Prove it. I canāt afford to fuck up anymore than I already have. And now because of you, Near probably has tabs on me.ā He sighs and finally fixes Matt with the full force of his gazeāexhaustion and stress and every one of his emotions apparent in his eyes. āYouāre a fucking idiot, you know that, right?ā
The lack of forgiveness doesnāt come as a surprise. He may have begged for it, but Matt has never actually expected Mello would just hand it to him freely; he may have made a foolish, desperate gamble to get here, but heās not stupid. Matt has had time to come to terms with Melloās cold, harsh anger. It doesnāt make it any less painfulāāit feels like a heavy stone, dropped inside Mattās stomach. Only the weight doesnāt settle there: it drops right through him, leaving him bludgeoned and bleeding.
Itās nothing Matt canāt handle. He swallows back the hurt clawing its way up his throat. Heās here, Melloās here, Melloās not pushing him away. He made it. He can do this.
āI know,ā he says, pushing the heel of his palm against his gogglesāfuck, heās not gonna cry. Heās not. āI know what I did was stupid, but itās not like I had a lot of options. I didnāt have shit to work with. If I couldnāt find you, I at least wanted to leave a trail you could trace back to me if you needed me. Or something.ā Mattās voice trails off, barely audible towards the end. Fuck; it had been given for Matt to do what he did but saying it out loud now makes him feel like the idiot Mello says he is.
At least heās finally looking at him.
Matt pushes away from Melloās space, rubbing at his face. Fucking hell, heās pathetic. But it doesnāt matter. Prove it, Mello said. He can do that. He will do that. Matt lifts his face from his hands, facing Melloās glare head on. What Matt sees in there makes something inside him crack a little. Itās already too late for both of us, he thinks, unsure of just what that means yet.
āI know I fucked up. Iām sorry. But Iām not sorry for looking for you. Youāre gonna catch Kira, Mello, and Iām going to help.ā
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