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Matt always thought that whenever Mello got angry, he resembled a dying star, blazing and burning brightly in its last moments before inevitably fizzling out.
Whenever Mello got angry – really angry, and not just a minor outburst as a result of a short temper – he exploded outward. Like the bombs that had earned him his scar, he destroyed everything unfortunate enough to be in the vicinity, and took his frustration out on anything and anyone that got too close. He said things he didn’t mean. He let slip out things he did mean but never intended to say. He could be hurtful, he could be mean, and he could be cruel. Sometimes because he meant to be, sometimes because he couldn’t help himself.
For most people, that was the extent of their knowledge about Mello’s anger. The select few lucky enough to survive these outbursts of his in the first place usually knew to make themselves scarce as quickly as possible once they occurred. Let him cool off for a little while. Or a long while.
(Usually a long while).
Matt was pretty certain he was the only person alive who was aware of what came after.
The way Mello’s anger fizzled out and left him almost eerily quiet. The way Mello’s thoughts turned bitter and hateful, not outwards this time, but inwards, towards himself. None of Mello’s usual confidence would be visible then. Instead, he would doubt himself. Blame himself for every little thing wrong with the world, and with him. Curse himself for being unable to fix it. For not being good enough. For never being good enough.
Seeing Mello so hollow, a shell of a man where he usually demanded everyone’s attention be on him, was almost unsettling.
Unsettling or not though, Matt knew the fact Mello allowed him to see him like this was one of the biggest shows of trust he was capable of offering.
Especially if Mello’s anger hadn’t been directed at him, and it would be oh so easy to just slip out and avoid him for a few hours, a few days, and Matt would be none the wiser of what had happened.
Instead of rushing out and collapsing somewhere on his own, all by himself, shattering into a million pieces with no one to put him back together, Mello allowed Matt to see. Allowed him to stay. Allowed him to carefully pick up the pieces even if Mello would prefer to hide them away, never to be found again.
‘It’s okay.’ Matt said during one such occasion. They’d become less frequent these days, much less common than during the prime of their Kira investigation, but they still happened sometimes. There were a lot of things to get angry about in the world after all, and Mello cared more about seemingly-trivial things than he was willing to admit. ‘I’ve got you.’
Usually, Mello would hate hearing such meaningless, empty words. What was Matt going to do about his raging thoughts and fears? Punch them? Perhaps if Mello’s brain had been some kind of supercomputer, Matt could have hacked into it and replaced all those negative thoughts with happy ones, but alas.
Whenever Mello got like this however, Matt knew those same words brought him a little more comfort. Kept him grounded, whereas in-depth talks about what was bothering him would only cause him to shut down even further.
Talking openly about one’s feelings should be done in moderation. Like alcohol and gambling, even if those things were hardly as dangerous in comparison.
‘I’ve got you, Mello.’ Matt whispered again, before pressing a firm but gentle kiss on Mello’s forehead while soft blond hair tickled his nose.
Mello himself was pressed against his chest as if he wanted to claw his way into his ribcage and bury himself there, and Matt felt he might let him if he tried. No matter how much his back ached as a result of their crappy couch and awkward position, Matt would hold him as long as necessary.
‘I need-…’
‘I know.’ Matt murmured, and wrapped his arms around Mello just a little tighter. He couldn’t make the world around them disappear altogether, but they could pretend. He could try.
He would be there for Mello as long as he drew breath and his heart continued beating. Which wasn’t exactly a given in this world they lived in, but it was all he had to offer. Sometimes, he wished he had more to offer still.
He supposed for now, this would have to do.
And even if Mello pretended like nothing was amiss the next day, barely even acknowledged it, like none of it had ever happened, Matt knew he appreciated it all the same. His pride wouldn’t allow him to say it outright, but Matt knew. Mello always showed his gratitude in different ways.
From the way his goggles were suddenly cleaned and polished in a way Matt never bothered to do himself, to the fresh cup of coffee awaiting him in the morning – made by someone who was most definitely not a morning person, it should be noted – to the way Mello kissed him just a little longer than usual after the emotional storm had passed.
Mello resembled a dying star whenever he got angry, but in his happiness and contentment, he was more akin to a whole galaxy worth of constellations, with Matt an eager astronomer ready to discover them all.