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Post by Matt on Apr 23, 2010 15:23:27 GMT -8
Dark green gaze peered though the orange of his goggles, as he stretched a little, he was pretty bored, and there wasn't anything else to do tonight. He had gotten a little bored watching Mello as much as he was doing so. He sighed a little and paid for a game of bowling. He wandered over to the juice bar and bought himself a large Pepsi. The Bowling alley was rather noisy, noisier than Matt liked, but he had to get his mind off of Mello.
He sighed heavily and started the game. He grinned as he got a strike and chuckled a little. Okay, so bowling wasn't exactly fun alone, but there really wasn't much else for him to do. He pushed his goggles up his nose to secure them to his face again. They kept sliding down his face. A frown creased his features. His next few scores were crap and he didn't like it.
"Damnit.." He grumbled darkly, crossing his arms, this wasn't going well. He sighed angrily and sat down, taking a sip of his pepsi. He missed his friends, and he especially missed L and Mello. L had died, and Matt was still rather sad about it, but not being around Mello really got to him these days.
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Post by Mello on Apr 24, 2010 17:00:38 GMT -8
Mello didn't like bowling. He didn't like the shoes, the sport itself--if it could even be called a sport--and he definitely didn't like the ugly eighties music and theme that seemed to resonate in every single bowling alley that reared their ugly architecture and obnoxious neon signs to the world. He hated bowling, hated it with a passion. One of the worst things about bowling were the ancient arcade games. He hated those games almost as much as bowling in general. They reminded him of Matt.
Mello did not enjoy being reminded of Matt. Every ginger or redhead, fake or real, that passed him in the street brought up memories of his best friend. Every striped shirt or sleeveless sweatshirt brought thoughts of the boy he'd left behind at Wammy's. Though he knew he shouldn't care, he did. He felt sorry for leaving the other boy behind without so much as a note or rushed explanation.
He wouldn't go looking for Matt, though. He knew that his friend (could Mello even call Matt his friend anymore?) was most likely following him--if Matt was anything, it was dependent. When they were kids, Mello didn't even have to turn around to check if the ginger was following him. Matt was always five steps behind. Matt and Mello would do everything together. Whenever Matt wasn't able to be around Mello, Mello would find him in a corner somewhere, isolating himself and playing some game. Occasionally, he'd be in their room, doing homework. Upon Mello's return, the younger boy would instantly disregard the schoolwork and jump up to greet Mello.
Mello rarely thought of Matt anymore. At first, he would think of the loyal redhead daily. That was back when he was fresh out of Wammy's, though. Now, he didn't even have to try to think of other things. Unless he was reminded specifically, Mello hardly had one thought of his childhood friend cross his mind. In Mello's eyes, it was better that way. Matt was a weakness. Any emotional ties were a weakness. Mello couldn't afford to think about anyone unless they were an enemy. It wasn't good for his status as a mafia boss. If he was preoccupied with how someone was doing, he wouldn't be able to concentrate on kicking Near's ass in the Kira case.
Mello had managed, after ten minutes of arguing with an acne-ridden teenager behind the counter about how he was most certainly not going to buy "those ugly-ass shoes," to get to the bowling lanes--without the "ugly-ass shoes." He sat down in a seat in the last bowling lane to the left side of the building, scanning the room for people he could possibly take home and get a quick fuck out of. He really didn't think there was any hope for him in the eyes of God--he stole, he raped, he murdered and he lied. As much as he went to church and repented before his Lord, he knew that he was headed straight for Hell. He had accepted that long ago. That didn't change that he needed sex every so often.
His eyes landed upon a flash of bright red hair and a mess of white and grey stripes. Mello blinked, thinking he'd been hallucinating. The image was still there. Matt. Matt? Mello took a few deep breaths, but didn't stand up. He didn't approach Matt. He didn't want to become weak again, and he didn't want Matt to get involved. Still, he didn't leave the building. He was convinced that this was just some other person, some young man who was the perfect clone of his old friend. He didn't do anything but sit there. Maybe he was drunk. He probably was.
All he knew was that maybe, maybe if he ignored the fact that Matt was there, in that same bowling alley as he was, the other boy would disappear.
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Post by Matt on May 2, 2010 13:48:07 GMT -8
An argument about 'ugly ass shoes' made Matt blink, snapping out of his thoughts, he turned to see who would voice such a thing so sharply and argumentively. When his gaze rested upon an all-too familliar blonde-haired male, Matt's eyes widened, and he quickly looked at the bowling lane in front of him. Ohshitohshitohshit..Mello was here. Matt could hear his heart thudding loudly in his ears and his hands started to sweat, he damn near dropped the ball, but he rolled it down the lane before it could slam onto his feet.
What the hell was Mello doing here? Matt frowned as he scored a gutterball and crossed his arms over his slim chest. He had taken his vest off, to move easier, and his skinny frame was one that people seemed to like staring at. Matt didn't have much muscle mass, he was just very slim and had a slight feminine figure, which he loved, because he could fit into damn near anything. He walked back to the bench, and grabbed a gulp of pepsi, he glanced over at the blonde again, and clenched his fists. Damnit. He stood up and stuck his hands in his pockets, heading up to the snack bar. He ordered a dark chocolate bar and a mischevious little smirk appeared on his face. Hell. why not? He walked up behind Mello, dropped the dark chocolate bar on his lap, and wandered back to his bowling lane, a triumphant smirk on his face. He picked up a bowling ball, and started the game again.
That's gonna probably freak him out.. He thought to himself as he rolled a strike
"HELL YEAH!!!" He crowed happily and punched the air "FINALLY a strike!!!"
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