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“I’ll take four milk chocolate and four dark chocolate, please.”
The old lady nods appreciatively to Matt as she hands him a box full of the biggest chocolate-covered strawberries Mello has ever seen. Once they turn away from the vendor’s booth, Mello tucks the potted succulent he’s holding under his left arm and holds out his right hand expectantly.
They’d been running errands earlier in the afternoon before stumbling upon the surprisingly lively farmer’s market. Matt hadn’t wasted another second before he dragged Mello through the maze of tables, babbling emphatically about wanting some more plants for the living room. Before Mello knew it, the redhead had purchased two succulents, a bucket full of lavender, a sizable cactus, and a snake plant that was already too big for its pot.
He had to put his foot down once Matt began gravitating towards a tent full of three-foot Yuccas. They were already struggling to manage the collection of smaller plants between the two of them, and he had no intention of figuring out the mechanics of adding a miniature tree into the mix. Matt had only stopped pouting once Mello assured him they could come back for more plants next week. Just as they were about to exit the crowded market, Matt stopped suddenly and made his way over to a booth selling chocolate-covered strawberries.
Now, he holds the decadent sweets close to his chest, a teasing smile just beginning to form in the corners of his mouth. Mello raises his eyebrow at him, then insistently waves his hand in front of his boyfriend’s goggled face. Matt tilts his head to the side in response and pokes around in the carton before selecting a strawberry coated in rich dark chocolate. Mello reaches out to accept it, only for Matt to thrust his hand towards the sky, inches just beyond the blonde’s fingertips.
“Oh sorry, did you want this?”
Mello feigns annoyance as Matt’s grin grows and he waves the strawberry in the air. They’ve made it just past the farmer’s market entrance and Matt begins walking towards a cluster of picnic tables toward the far end of the park. Mello adjusts the succulents in his arms again as he follows his chocolate-hoarding boyfriend through the crowd. Finally, Matt sets his plants on a table and gestures for Mello to join him on the bench.
Despite the heat, they settle in close to one another; with their elbows entwined, and thighs pressed together snugly. Matt smiles again and presents Mello with the strawberry. But as he leans in to accept it, it’s yanked out of reach. He hears Matt laugh before he feels the sweet press of lips against his ear.
“Don’t worry Mels, you can have a strawberry,” Matt’s playful words pause for a moment as he links their ankles beneath the table. “But you’ll have to trade me for it.”
Mello turns slightly to face Matt; they’re already close enough that the tip of his nose brushes delicately against a freckled cheek. Despite the hammering sensation in his chest, Mello keeps his cool and sends him a sly smile.
“Name your price.”
“This strawberry,” Matt holds the candied fruit just beneath his chin, taunting him with another wave of his hand, “is worth exactly one kiss.”
Mello rolls his eyes but grins despite himself. He typically isn’t one for PDA. Kissing in public isn’t exactly something he enjoys, but Matt’s being so sweet that he can’t help but indulge him for the moment. Quickly, he leans forward and closes the millimeters of distance between their lips.
The kiss is soft; so gentle that Mello can hardly believe he was the one to produce it in the first place. For so much of his life, he’d held onto a certain ugly harshness that made him rigid and destructive. Recalling the coldness of his past self makes moments like this seem like a forbidden fantasy, one that he’s not quite sure he deserves. Pushing his doubts away, he ends the kiss with a final, slow pull of his lips.
He's rewarded with another brilliant smile along with a slightly melted strawberry. Without wasting another second, he pops it into his mouth and sighs with delight. Matt knocks their shoulders together as he takes a small bite out of another strawberry. He presents the uneaten half to Mello as if it’s something precious.
“For this strawberry-“ Mello cuts him off with a quick kiss on the tip of his nose. While the redhead flushes and stammers, Mello finishes the strawberry with one bite. Matt lets out a pleased hum and selects the biggest strawberry from the carton.
“You can have this strawberry…” Matt pauses to think for a moment, then leans in close again. “If you tell me you love me.”
Mello’s so caught off guard that he flinches, only slightly, but his hesitancy is noticeable enough that Matt’s smile slightly falters. Mello feels his palms begin to sweat as his mind races, trying to find the solution to fix his blunder.
“You know I do.”
His response is clipped and comes out entirely wrong. Though Mello intended to sound reassuring, his words rush out in one breath, the tone much too indignant and defensive. Matt’s smile drops completely, and Mello feels his heart sink deep into the pit of his stomach.
He loves Matt. He knows it for a fact, he’s known it for most of his life. He’s even said it a handful of times; usually, it’s whispered carefully in the dead of night with the sheets sticking to his back and limbs tangled around each other so tightly he worries they might break. Once he’d said it desperately, the moment he had Matt back in his arms after believing he’d lost him forever in a cloud of smoke and bullets. The truth is, he’s only ever been able to say it in moments when his vulnerability has reached its frantic and exhaustive peak. Once his nerves have been pulled too thin and the dam in his emotionally repressed brain finally breaks and allows him a moment of true weakness.
Saying those precious words causally, in the middle of a crowded park feels downright impossible. His stomach turns as Matt plasters on a fake smile and holds the strawberry out to him. Numbly, Mello accepts it and pops it into his mouth; the sweet fruit turns to sand the moment it passes his lips. He knows he’s disappointed Matt and tries to make up for his mistake by leaning in for another kiss. Matt accepts it, for a brief, fleeting second, but Mello knows the moment has long passed. Guilt seeps heavily into the knots in his stomach as they silently gather their plants and head in the direction of their neighborhood.
-----
The apartment is silent as Mello tosses a pile of freshly cleaned laundry onto the couch. Though neither of them had acknowledged what had happened earlier, the awkwardness had persisted. Matt had pretty much ignored him in favor of fussing over his new plants. Then he’d abruptly excused himself to take a nap once he’d finished setting up his plants on their respective shelves. Mello tried not to read too much into it and subsequently busied himself with housework.
However, no matter how hard he tries to distract himself, his guilt persists. He isn’t able to stop himself from reliving his harsh rejection, and each time he recalls the way Matt’s smile had dropped, he feels as if he’s going to throw up. Frustrated with himself, he decides he needs another distraction. He scans the room, looking for just about anything to help take his mind off things. Eventually, he decides to put on some music after spotting Matt’s speaker on the edge of the coffee table.
Music is more Matt’s thing than his own, so Mello’s a bit lost on what to play. After scrolling through his boyfriend’s vast collection of songs on Spotify, his eyes land on one playlist simply titled with a frowny face emoticon. As someone who can appreciate the irony of his own misery, he clicks on the playlist and throws himself on top of the laundry he has no intention of folding.
He stays like that for a while, wallowing with his face pressed into one of Matt’s dryer-warm t-shirts and wondering what the hell is wrong with him. The sullen chords and whiny vocals emanating from the speaker are doing little to improve his mood, but he keeps it on regardless. The words are catchy and it’s somewhat comforting knowing he’s not the only one in the world who’s completely miserable.
The misery in itself is ridiculous, as the problem he’s obsessing over is entirely his fault. Matt’s words, tell me you love me, echo over and over in his mind. How simple it should have been to let out a small laugh and reply with a genuine I love you, Matt. Or even, Of course I love you, dummy.
But it wasn’t easy for him, that was the problem. It’s something that has always been difficult for him to say, no matter how strongly he feels. The words just refuse to come out, and no matter how hard he tries to be casual about it, it never happens.
Maybe that’s the root of it, why is he expected to be so casual about such a strong sentiment? Those three little words seem so minuscule, so meaningless to him compared to the ever-present swell of love and devotion he feels for Matt. Matt gives him purpose; can bring him to life with even the tiniest of grins, can cause his insides to light up with every touch, kiss, and embrace. He makes him feel whole; makes life worth living, even if the world seems like a meaningless, burning cesspool.
Great, now it seems as if his misery has reached an all-time catastrophic low, as if he couldn’t get any more pathetic. What a fucking cliché he was turning out to be. It was just three words, three words Matt clearly wanted to hear him say. And yet he still couldn’t fathom uttering them unless it felt necessary in the moment.
He truly felt as if there was something wrong with him. He was Mihael fucking Kheel, he was supposed to be fearless. He’d rubbed elbows with the most despicable of criminals, chased a genocidal nutcase to hell and back, and had survived a fucking explosion of all things; he should-
I'm not afraid of anything at all
Not dying in a fire, not being broke again
I'm not afraid of living on a fault line
'Cause nothing ever shakes me, nothing makes me cry…
He puts a pause on his internal meltdown once he registers how eerily the lyrics coming through the speaker parallel his own thoughts. Stunned, he continues listening to the melancholic vocalist croon on. By the time the song reaches the end of the chorus, he’s fully captivated. Though the words are sung so solemnly, it’s meaning is wholly relatable. Mello isn’t typically one to be moved by a song, but the words resonate so deeply with him that he can’t help himself from humming along.
As the song loops through its third replay, Mello can’t help but rewind the song yet again. As ridiculous as he feels, he has to admit this is helping him out of his embarrassingly dramatic funk. This time, when the singer gets to the chorus, Mello sings right along with her.
“Watching the world from the sidelines
Had nothing to prove
'Till you came into my life
Gave me something to lose…”
He trails off, feeling incredibly silly for singing to himself. However, once the second verse picks up, he finds himself mouthing along to the words again.
“I'm not afraid of getting older
Used to fetishize myself, now I'm talking to my house plants…”
Sometimes, Mello pauses mid-verse and thinks to himself, it’s downright offensive how accurate songs can be.
Despite his internal embarrassment, Mello continues to belt out the rest of the song. Just as he’s about to replay the song for the fifth time, a shuffling sound behind him breaks him out of whatever strange trance he’d worked himself into.
Slowly, he turns to face the direction from where the noise had come from and finds a very drowsy Matt staring back at him. The guilty look on his beloved’s face tells him everything he needs to know; he’d heard him singing. As if anticipating Mello’s next move- that being to throw himself out of the nearest window- Matt holds up his hands and carefully approaches the couch. Mello feels his face flush, and briefly thinks that the burn of embarrassment is far more excruciating than any type of sensation a flame could produce. He stares at his feet as he waits for Matt to laugh at him.
“You have a lovely voice,” comes the redhead’s genuine reply.
“Oh, shut up!” Mello can’t help but snap at him, he’s far too embarrassed to act rationally, even if Matt’s being kind. “How long were you fucking standing there anyway?”
“Uh, pretty much since the first verse. I heard Phoebe Bridgers and realized I may have let you marinade with your thoughts for too long.”
Mello throws his hands up in disgust, far too mortified to come up with a viable excuse for himself. He tries to get up in a half-assed attempt to flee, but Matt puts an arm around him before his butt lifts off the couch.
“Oh, come on Mels, don’t be mad! You have a beautiful singing voice, I couldn’t help it.”
Mello collapses back onto the couch with an apathetic thud, he simply no longer has the energy to storm out of the room and lock himself away for the rest of the night. They sit quietly for a while; Matt’s arm occasionally moves to run a hand down his back or play with the ends of his hair, but otherwise, he remains respectfully silent as Mello gathers his thoughts. Eventually, Mello turns to face him and tries to gauge his demeanor. His goggles aren’t on, so it’s easy to read his passive expression.
“Why are you being so nice to me after I was a complete dick to you earlier?”
Matt shakes his head at the question and meet’s Mello’s gaze dead on.
“You weren’t being a dick. I know it’s…not easy for you to say that stuff. I shouldn’t have asked in the first place; I was just goofing around.”
“It bothers you. I know it does, I saw how disappointed you were.”
“Nah man, it’s okay, really. If I seemed upset it was because I knew you’d beat yourself up about it. I never meant for it to turn into something serious.”
Mello squints at him and tries to determine if Matt is being genuine or just trying to spare his feelings. Matt gives him a small grin and smooths his palm down the scarred tissue on his shoulder.
“But…weren’t you upset when we got back? You were sort of...distant.” To his surprise, Matt lets out a laugh and shakes his head.
“Dude, no! I wasn’t upset, I was just in the plant zone.”
“What?”
“I was stoked about setting up our new plant babies! I didn’t mean to blow you off, I just wanted to put them in the sun before I passed out. I was pretty tired from being out all day.”
“So…you weren’t upset with me?”
“Mels, of course not. I know that you love me, you just spent the whole afternoon buying plants and eating strawberries with me. That’s true love baby.”
Mello lets out a long sigh and rests his head on Matt’s shoulder. He’s entirely relieved that he hasn’t upset his boyfriend with his weird internal hang-ups. However, this reassurance also comes with the realization that he just spent the past few hours wallowing for no reason at all. Not to mention-
“So, now that we’ve established that we love each other and all, can we talk about how you’ve been holding out on me?”
Mello looks up at Matt, who’s practically buzzing with excitement.
“Excuse me?”
“Your voice, dude! How come I never knew you could sing like that? You sound like a sexy Thom Yorke.” Mello flushes and put’s his hand over Matt’s stupid, giddy grin. He cannot believe that Matt’s seriously impressed with his pathetic attempt at warbling along to some woeful lyrics.
“Shut up! This never happened, you didn’t hear shit. Got it, Jeevas?”
“Yeah right, like I’m gonna let this go. In fact, I’m taking you out tonight; there’s this awesome Korean BBQ place that has karaoke-”
“Absolutely not.”
Matt’s already on his feet, phone in hand, and visibly bouncing with delight. Mello’s too caught off guard to follow him, so he sends a pillow flying in his direction. It falls just short of hitting Matt in the back and Mello feels himself deflate as he realizes there’s no way his boyfriend’s going to let this go.
“Too late, I’m making the reservation and there’s nothing you can do to stop me. How does six o’clock sound?”
“Matt!”
The redhead turns to face him, finger raised above his phone indicating that Mello better give him a really good reason before he confirms their reservation. Mello opens his mouth to do just that, but the words fail to come out. It’s that fucking smile of his again- boyish, charming, and so endearing it fills Mello’s brain with so much fondness that all other thoughts are subsequently deleted and forgotten. Rather than stuttering out some lame excuse, Mello rolls his eyes and grins.
“Make the reservation for seven, I need time to pick out an outfit.”