Hide and Seek

Pale light streamed in through a boarded up window in thin lines. It provided very little actual illumination, and caused the attic to be almost unbearably dim. The air, he found, was thick and fully saturated with dust. It stuck to the back of his throat, making him cough and gag on the flavour. After getting over a fit of chest heaving barks, the small redhead crawled across the dirtied floor, wedging himself in between various objects and boxes. His exposed knees were scuffed up from an earlier fight, and he could feel the grime sticking to the semi-dried blood that caked his cuts. Pulling himself to the window, his wide eyes looked out between the planks. The view was amazing. He could see the entire estate and then some.

He sat back against a box that was likely filled with useless decorations or something else just as pointless that the orphanage stored up here, and pulled a beaten up game boy from his pocket. The dark blue paint was scratched up, and the screen had a broken bit in it that made what looked like black ink blossom across the corner. It might be difficult to play, but it still worked and he had perfected moving around the blank spot. However, a new flower of darkness seeped down from the upper left and wiped out the rest of the viewer. It was useless now. Even so, he turned it on, at least to keep away the quiet.

He remained up there for some time, head leaning against the window, watching the sky with an almost melancholic expression. Light tinkering of video game music played about the room. He let his mind drift.

That old man lied to him. He said he'd be happier here. In the past week he was beaten up twice, and lost one of his prized possessions from his life before this.

"It's not fair." He mumbled under his breath. Nervously he licked at his lips, tasting the metallic fluid that long since dried. Some boy had got him good. Bloody nose, black eye, the works. It wasn't that he had never been beaten before. No, he was quite used to that. It was the fact that the old man said that he'd like it here. That he didn't have to worry any more. Right. It was just a ploy to get the seven year old kid to stop his snivelling.  

From the other side of the attic, over by the trapdoor entrance, he heard a sound. Someone was coming up. In an attempt to preserve himself, he hid, pulling his legs up close and trying to appear as small as possible. What if it was one of those other boys again? What if they were coming to finish off the job? He watched with a fear-filled gaze that turned into relief as a blonde haired girl entered, seeming to pull herself out of the flooring.

She was dressed in black from head to toe, fingernails painted to match. If he saw right, a rosewood rosary swung low on her neck. She was very pretty...for a girl at least. When she looked up her blue-green eyes fell on the shadows where he hunched.

"What are you doing up here?"

Strike that. It was a very pretty boy.

The redhead felt his cheeks heat up. He ducked his head behind his knees. "I'm hiding."

"Hiding? Why?" The blonde made his way across the room, kneeling down as close as he could get. "You get your ass kicked or something?"

Slowly he nodded, wondering if this kid was going to hit him too.

The blonde hummed in response, looking over the various cuts and scrapes. "Should get these cleaned. C'mon. I'll make sure those useless wankers piss off and leave you alone." He paused, looking the redhead in the face finally. "You're the new kid, right?"

A nod.

"My name's Mello." The blonde leaned forward, canting his head to the side curiously. "What's your name?"

"Mai--Matt."

"My Matt?" He raised a barely visible brow, thoroughly amused. His amusement heightened as Matt's cheeks lit up a red that nearly rivalled his hair. "I like you. Let's be friends."

Matt nodded again, a ghost of a smile breaking across his lips. "Okay."

Mello grinned at that, eyes sparkling happily. The light managed to hit him just right, and he looked absolutely angelic. Maybe he was Matt's saviour in this so far wretched place?

Right then and there, in that filthy attic, at the age of seven, Matt swore he fell in love.