White Chocolate

Stripes. Red and white stripes. They belonged on my arms, my torso, around my neck, my waist, my hips... My stripes. My trademark. Nearly every shirt I own is striped: white with black, white with orange, green with orange, red with blue...interlocking grays with more gray... I love my stripes.

But I'll be damned if I was going to wear them on my legs!

I held the cursed garment as far from my face as my arms would stretch and I just looked up at her questioning. Linda simply let her hand fall to her hip, her eyes emotionless marbles as she pointed to the "dressing room". The rest of my "costume" was in there, presumably.

"Linda, these aren't even pants! I think toilet paper has more texture! How are these supposed to even cover my boxers?"

She rolled her steely eyes and just shook her head, "They're called tights, Matt, and they go under your skirt. I don't care how you put them on. Go commando for all I care, just hurry up! I need you in make-up ASAP!"

An audible groan escaped my lips. My legs trudged towards a few make-shift partitions that served as a changing station. I rationalized running out the door, cursing myself for being here in the first place. Maybe if I just bolt when she's not looking...

I sighed, moved behind one of the partitions, and sat down on a chair, my head weighing dejectedly on my hands. Matt, you're a coward. A piece of long blue fabric caught my eye and I ruffled the dress out of its hanger on the wall. It looked limp as I threw it on the chair and slid my jeans to the floor. That idiot, Roger...couldn't he have just taken my laptop away? My cigarettes? Yes, I'd rather eschew nicotine than endure this. Surely nothing merited this sadistic brand of fucked up humiliation…

I closed my eyes, daring to face why I was spending my perfectly good Saturday in a spare classroom, suiting myself up like a queer, when my video games lay collecting dust in my room. My room…with Mello. I bit my lip, recalling exactly why I was here, suffering this demonic twist of fate....

It had just been a teddy bear. A stupid, little, stuffed play thing. Near broke his toys all the time and didn't cry over them. We'd have our laugh and she'd get over it, right? I mean how serious of a grudge could a girl hold?

Very serious, as it turned out. Linda wouldn't even look at Mello or me as we sat in Roger's office, waiting for our death sentence as she cradled the body of her mangled teddy bear.

Roger had looked at us with a strange sadness in his eyes, "I'm sure you know why you're here, boys. I don't know why or how you did this, but stealing and destroying other people's belongings is wrong. This is very serious, indeed."

Mello tried to push Roger's eyes away with his mock-innocence impression, "Why Roger, while Matt and I regret that Linda's little bear was…violated, I am shocked that the finger of blame has been directed at us. Why must you assume that whenever mischief comes to light, I had any kind of hand in it?" He let his lip quiver slightly, as his pupils dilated from not blinking. Yeah, he liked to lay the honey on sometimes. Usually, it worked.

Roger simply sighed and revealed the immolated butt of a cigarette, "Actually, Mello, you are not the one being accused here. Matt, as you know, you are the only child here who smokes, and since we have not been able to cure you from the habit you brought with you from your previous life, we have allowed you to continue it in moderation. This," he indicated the cigarette bud, "was found on the floor of Linda's room, next to her shelf where she keeps her Teddy bear."

When it became apparent that neither Mello nor I were going to comment, he continued his accusation, "What do you have to say for yourself Matt? As neither Linda nor India can vouch for letting you into their shared room, this piece of evidence should suffice as proof of your presence there. Do you admit to the deed now?"

Mello had tried to divert the blame to himself. He even told Roger that he'd coerced me by force to follow his plan, but Roger wanted nothing of the explanation. In fact, every time Mello had defended me, Roger seemed filled with more anger. Our punishment, however, was completely uncalled for.

"Since you seem to be such a bad influence on Matt, I feel sufficient need to separate the two of you permanently. Mello, as of today, you will cease to have roommates. Matt, I shall place you with someone of a less mischievous nature. I'm sure you and Near might exchange some positive social skills…"

Mello had nearly cussed Roger into the next century by the time I had realized the gravity of those words. I was going to lose Mello. I was going to be alone. No, I was going to be worse than alone…Roger was sending me to the enemy. I was going to lose the only friend I'd ever had, and just when I'd realize exactly how much he really meant to me…

You can imagine how surprised I was when Linda threw her voice over Mello's.

"STOP!" She looked timid from her own outburst, but she had also stood her ground, "Roger…I feel very sad right now. I thought Matt and Mello were my friends." Somehow, I didn't think the way she clutched the fluffy brown remains of that bear quite as pathetic as when we'd walked in, "In a way, I'd still like to believe that, but even if they aren't, I…if I feel this bad from losing Mr. Snuggle…I can't imagine being separated from a best friend."

She wiped the fresh tears from her eyes, "Please…let me…choose the punishment. Please, let me try…to fix things."

Her voice was so sad and frail that I don't think Roger would have agreed otherwise. Mello sat down, when Roger agreed to listen to Linda's idea. What she said, shocked all of us.

"I…I would rather have it that Matt learned to be sensitive to other people's feelings, so that he will never do anything like this again. Roger, please, can Matt attend this year's Rose Tea?" She had gained courage with every word, "He will dress appropriately and abide by the etiquette of the Rose Tea. I think…I think the girls and I can break him into a much more caring person."

I can still recall how Roger's lips had twitched slightly into a half smile at her words, "Is this…really what you want, Linda. Alright. I leave it in your charge."

Mello had simply laughed. "What? You want us to wear dresses and sip tea and eat finger sandwiches? What the hell kind of idea is that?"

But Linda had shook her head, "No, Mello. You and Matt cause too much trouble together. Matt will come to the Rose Tea alone, and you will not be allowed to come. Being along for a day, with no one to boost your inflated ego, should be punishment enough for you."

And that's what had settled it. Roger had agreed to let Linda handle our punishment, and I was sitting here on this god forsaken chair, pulling a blue dress over my head, because coming to this stupid tea party was the only alternative to losing Mello.

The annual Rose Tea is a Wammy's House tradition. It's like some stupid thing that Roger came up with when he thought the orphans needed more "culture" in their lives. Every autumn, the girls get together and wear funny laced-up frilly dresses, eat little cakes, talk in a funny proper dialect while they drink tea together. Boys aren't allowed into this circle, because we aren't deemed mature enough, nor interested enough, to actually attend. Hell, we have our own celebration and a poker tournament, so who the hell would want to go their little prissy party anyways?

But that's exactly where I found myself, in the middle of their little fucked up prissy party. At least Mello won't see me in this ridiculous apron and…holy fuck is that a bonnet on that hanger? Girls, are not cute. Girls are demons who wear pink.

I walked out of the partition, wearing the "costume" and desperately wanting some underwear under these…tights, as Linda had called them. Fuck they sure were tight…damn uncomfortable too. I kept my black low tops on, since Linda didn't think Converse were too inappropriate for the outfit.

Linda was there, emptying the contents of a makeup bag on the little table across the room. India, her roommate, was seated daintily on a chair next to her. India could easily be confused with a porcelain doll. She was dressed a puff and frilly, yet feminine and delicate dress, with lace gloves and bows that complemented her curly brown locks. She was also very polite and she never spoke a harsh word against any of the Wammy's children. Actually, she never spoke at all. As far as anyone knew, only her roommate had ever heard the child's voice. She kept to herself mostly, and perhaps the most intriguing thing about the nine-year-old was her uncanny ability to make everyone smile. I think Near might be soft on her; he has a puppet that looks suspiciously like her and when Mello tried to steal it, he held my Gameboy hostage until he got it back.

Linda touched my goggles in irritation but I instinctively brushed her hand off, "No, Linda. You can make me do whatever the fuck you have planned, but I am NOT taking off my goggles!"

India simply nodded to her and they got started. She looked disappointed, but Linda seemed to sense that my goggles weren't moving and no force could make them.

I sat wordlessly as India and Linda smeared this strange smelling liquid on my face and touched all kinds of weird brushes to these little bowls of goo and back to my face again. I was squirming too much for Linda, but India's infinite patience kept her hand steady with work until both girls were satisfied with progress. I said nothing during the whole 20 minutes I sat there, because I knew if I opened my mouth…I would cry.

Linda got up abruptly and walked towards the door, "India, let's go to Vy's room, she has a curling iron we can borrow."

"What? You're going to curl my hair? Linda! Wait!" She was already out of the room. Seriously, how much of this crap was really necessary?

India bowed to me, apologizing for Linda's abruptness, and skipped out the door as well. I ventured to pick up the hand-mirror from the table, willing myself to look at the reflection. And I dropped the mirror immediately, because I looked like a goomba-sucking drag queen.

I simply gaped at the table, wishing I could merge with it all its splintered glory.

A small click told me that the door was opening. Shit, the girls were back. I let my face fall to the table, my goggles pressing uncomfortably against my eyelashes.

"Hey Raggedy Anne. I thought you could use a smoke to calm your nerves before they turn you into a complete pussy."

The voice wasn't Linda's. Even if I didn't dream every night about that voice moaning in my ear, I would have recognized Mello's sound simply from its teasing tone.

I looked up automatically, I mean the guy's voice demanded attention. My cheeks grew hot, remembering how ridiculous I looked, and how Mello would never let me live through the embarrassment. I've lived a good life, haven't I? Well I might have liked making it to my thirteenth birthday…

One look into his eyes, and all my thoughts scattered. I expected him to laugh. I anticipated a mocking scowl and teasing. I was sure he was going to try and soak in all he could, as blackmail ammunition.

I didn't expect his jaw to slack that way…

Mello simply, stared. It wasn't just that he was looking at me so much as he was looking at me. I mean his eyes simply went over every little curve and flaw on me. Damn I want a warp tunnel pipe!

Without that curious gaze leaving his eyes, he sat down next to me, placing a white box on the table. Oh thank ye mighty Gods of Hyrule, Mello had my nicotine!

I picked up the box. Damn, no lighter. Oh well, he can't think of everything. Suddenly, I felt kind of happy. As embarrassing as it was to be seen in this…abomination of an ahem, dress, Mello had come to bring me a bit of comfort, so maybe I should stop feeling scared shitless?

I smiled despite myself. Shit. He's still looking at me in that intense way.

"Well I can see they didn't manage to get your goggles off. That's a relief. Now I don't have to worry about you contracting some weird eye disease."

I nearly fell off the chair, "Eye disease? What the heck are you talking about?"

Mello picked up a little bottle of black from the table, twisting the cap off to reveal a thin brush full of ink, "This," he said with authority, "is liquid eyeliner."

"Ummn…" I simply stared at him.

Mello rolled his eyes and explained, "Bacteria lives in liquid and creams, dipshit, but not in powder. Sharing makeup is dirty and you can get flesh-eating diseases that way. Well, only if you share stuff like this." He shook the little bottle after recapping it and replaced it on the table.

"You mean I could die from this shit?" My eyes must have dilated from shock.

He laughed and shook his head, "No. They didn't manage to put anything on your eyes with those goggles on." He smiled weakly, "Too bad. You might look pretty with some."

It was my turn to stare at Mello. "What?"

It was simply breath-taking how laugher rolled through his chest and vibrated into a humming smile at his lips, "Damn Matt, you are simply too easy to josh."

Mello picked up a strange looking brush that had thin slanted bristles, almost angular, and twirled it between his forefingers, "Actually, I do know how it all works. They put too much blush on you, by the way."

He picked up a small bottle of baby oil from the table and dabbed a little on a tissue then rubbed it against my cheeks. Those are ninja hands I tell you!

"My mother…" he smiled a little bitterly, "when I was really little, I was always fascinated watching her put her make-up on in the morning. Eventually she taught me how, so I was able to 'make her beautiful' as she called it."

He picked up a large puffy brush and dipped it in a small pink dish, dabbing the brush's tip to my cheeks, sending a strange tingling through me. Wait. Wait one Kamek-fucking minute!

"Mello," not that I wanted him to stop, but seriously, kick-ass Mello putting blush on my cheeks? This had to be apocalypse, "what the hell are you doing?"

"Hmmn?" he looked a little distracted, "Sorry Matty. I was just…remembering. Hey, can I put some eyeliner on you? Not the liquid stuff, I know a hygienic way to do it."

Before I could even answer, his fingers were tugging at the rubber strap of my goggles, lifting them over my eyes. My brain fizzled at the touches against my face. He pulled that funny angled brush across a small container of black powder and told me to close my eyes. I felt the bristles lick my lids, and I let out a sigh of pleasure. This was too fucking strange for words, but damn it felt good.

"Look up Matt and don't blink."

Oh. My. God.

I opened my eyes to the deep penetrating oceans of Mello's eyes, only two inches from my nose. I stiffened. God those were beautiful eyes. I could feel his steady breathing against my cheek as he slid the brush on my lower eyelid. It tickled, but damn I was too distracted by the mere proximity of Mello to really give a shi—

"Whoa what's going on in here?" Linda's voice came crashing like a thousand needles to Mello's hand.

He slipped his hand away from my face, but as I was also startled by her voice I had shuddered forward as he had leaned forward. Mello's teeth crashed painfully onto mine, sending our hands immediately to our mouths. It felt like my mouth was ringing and my gums smarted something fierce. I closed my eyes, my hand tightly clamped over my lips…lips that Mello's had brushed against. It wasn't on purpose, and if my dental nerves were in pain, I'm sure his were too…but, damn. Our lips had brushed all the same.

"Fuck. Linda, what the hell did you surprise us for? I could have poked Matt's eye out."

He had turned completely on her, and was yelling at her for walking in so abruptly like that. I ran my tongue across my teeth. Chipped. Yes, definitely a chip on the left front tooth.

I suddenly became aware of the three pairs of eyes on me. Mello, India, and Linda were looking at me curiously. Mello looked pissed, but he was staring at me just as curiously as the girls.

"Wow. Mello, did you do that?" Linda's eyes were wide, "You did a better job than either India or I did. How?"

Her voice was in soft reverence of, I realized, my face. I consciously realized that Mello had slid my goggles up, so I yanked them down hard, but I knew the damage had already been done. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Yes, Linda had seen my eyes before, but only briefly, and certainly no one ever got to stare at them. And now she and India had seen Epona-knows-what emotions in my green marbles. Fucking shit damn it. These are my chaos emeralds, bitches. Hands off! Girls are demons. In PINK.

"Stop! Just, stop fucking fussing over me, okay!" I growled at the lot of them. Mello got up and abruptly left the room.

"Wait! Mello, wait…" Linda's hand stopped me. I shoved it off and wrenched the door open, but Mello wasn't in the hallway, and I wasn't really for the idea of running around in this god-forsaken dress.

"What happened in here? Matt, when we came in, it looked almost as if you two were…your faces were so close. I mean you were practically…And your make-up! Did Mello really do that?"

"Linda," I said icily, "I am wearing this damned dress and this fucking make-up. I will attend your damned little tea party. I will be polite and do whatever the else you fucking tell me, but after this punishment is over, I am never fucking talking you again!"

She shrunk into herself, tears forming at the corners of her eyes. India simply held her, not really catching my eyes. Linda didn't push the curling iron thing after my outburst. When both girls with satisfied with their own appearances as well as my own, we headed towards the room where all the other girls were gathering. A large banner over the door said 'Wammy's Rose Tea'.

My mouth grew incredibly dry as India opened the door for us to step inside.

What happened over the next four hours, you will never get from my lips. Not even if you break all my videogames, my laptop, and take away my cigarettes. What happened behind those doors on that day, is the single-most traumatizing act of human sadism in the history of mankind. Girls…devils…same difference in my book.

When I finally escaped their world of frills, pink, cookies, and nauseating etiquette, I clawed the door of my bedroom open. Exhausted, I flung myself at my bed. Mello was already there, reading a book by lamplight, since the sun goes down pretty early this late in the year.

"So how'd it go?"

I ignored him, choosing instead to dig my fingernails into my pillow.

"Matt you can't go to sleep like that. At least wash the make-up off and change."

When I still hadn't responded, Mello tugged me into an upright position. His eyes were sad and gentle, not the kind you could simply be mad at.

"C'mon you big baby." he said in a soft, empathetic voice. At least he wasn't going to make me tell him about the tea party. I'd suffered enough for today as it was.

I followed him to the restroom where we spent nearly half an hour rubbing all the color away from my face. It was so strange, this day. Everything sucked and harmonized all at once, because no matter how humiliating anything seemed, Mello shined the one candle in my unlit hallway.

When we were finished I followed Mello out of the bathroom. He sat back down on his bed, pulling the forgotten book into his lap and snapping a chocolate bar with his teeth. I winced at the sound, remembering how in the last hours, to my horror I'd discovered a new sensitive in my newly chipped tooth towards any kind of sugar. Mello didn't miss my flinch.

"You alright, Matt?"

I explained to him what had happened, blushing with the recollection of how my tooth had chipped. Mello seemed rather concerned on the point of my chipped tooth and demanded to see it. He crossed the room, turning on my bedside lamp and sitting next to me, leaning my head back with his hands. I shuddered as I bared my lips a little for his inspection.

One hand decided to rest on my cheek, with a few of his slender fingers propping my lips apart. Simple light touches, but I was already rather uncomfortable in my, ahem, southern area. So when Mello rubbed his thumb against my lip, I was desperately fighting going hard. I didn't even notice how close his breathe was to mine until I smelled the chocolate on his lips. He sure was looking close…was the chip that small?

And suddenly, it happened. His lips felt like butterfly wings, gently brushing mine in such a tender peck that it sent shivers down my entire body. I leaned into him, adding a little more pressure to it. The fingers that had been brushing my lips suddenly stroked the soft locks of my auburn head and instinctively I put my arm around his neck.

That was the wrong move.

Mello abruptly stiffened. And opened his eyes. Where a serene smile had played on his lips only moments before, there was simply the gaped opened mouth of shock. His eyes went through such a change in expression, from shock to extreme horror as he realized exactly what had just passed between us. He practically flung his body at the bathroom. It took me a moment to overcome my own shock, but I immediately ran to the door.

I could hear Mello retching into the toilet.

"Mello!" My fists were banging on the door, clenched so tightly against the wooden frame that I scraped the skin from my knuckles. "Open the door, damnit!"

I didn't stop banging and my voice kept going. I don't know when I started crying, but half choking on my own sobs I tried begging him to open the door, to let me in, to let me explain…to just…anything but this.

I was on the floor, my face pressed against my arms while my fingers clutched the doorknob. In my desperation to talk to Mello, I hadn't peeled off the stupid dress and other costume shit, so leaning on the door for support, I pulled the damn fabric over my head and stripped to my birthday suit. Haphazardly I pulled some boxers and a fleece pair of pants from my drawer and put them on under a cotton shirt. I went back to my post, relieved to hear silence. At least he stopped throwing up.

But the thing is…he had been throwing up, and I had caused it. Was I…am I that disgusting? I was still crying, but now it wasn't so much for fear of his health as it was for…this heaving pain in my chest. It felt like someone was taking a piece of ice and pressing it on my heart; the pain was sharp, acute, and burned in the most depressing throbbing rhythm. Mello probably didn't want to be friends with me after this…

But he was the one that kissed you, Matt. I tried to ignore the little voice in the back of my head. I tried, but I'm a terrible liar, even to myself. Why Mello has ever believed one of my mistruths, I don't think I'll ever know, because I sure as hell am not going to admit that I've been lying to him about anything! All the same, nothing made sense anymore.

"Mels, please tell me that you're okay?" my voice was the king of cues; Mello began throwing up at the mere sound.

When his stomach had calmed again, I heard the sink water running. I could almost see the way his hand would have twisted the knob for it to open. In reality, I wanted to be the water splashing against his face, washing away the pain and confusion in his perfect azure eyes.

"Matt," he whispered, the word tumbling softly through the door, but I couldn't gloss over the emotions that cut deep into my soul—pain, disgust, fear.

"Mel?" I managed to squeak back, my voice hardly above a tremble.

I could hear the shuddering in his voice, the weak crack from fallen tears, "Matt."

Dead silence.

And then, the most horrible words I've ever heard crashed through me, despite them having been uttered in a whisper, "Just…Leave. Go away damnit. Don't even fucking look back when you go. I don't ever want…"

The final part came so choked out, I could only ear the words, "Ever again."

He probably tried to say 'I don't ever want to see you again.'

I am so fucked right now. Because I'm a monster…

I grabbed my pillow, blanket, lighter, and 3 packs of cigarettes from my bedside drawer. Half-dazed, partially numb, and in more pain than I could ever remember, I made way towards the library, where I found an empty beanbag chair. I hugged it close and forced myself into what I hoped would be a dreamless sleep.

So you can imagine the audacity of whoever had the fuckin' idea to run their fingers through my hair. I'm going to maul the son of a bitch who's touching me.

Intent on murder, my eyes shot open dangerously, only for me to cry out in shock.

"Mmmph."

A tiny bit of moonlight washed over the black enigmatic marbles that drained all my attention. With one hand he covered my mouth, stifling any further noise that could escape my lips, and with the other hand he held a long pale finger over his lips.

Squatting low to the floor, yet still hovering over me, L removed his hand from my mouth and whispered, "Come."