death note · wammy's house · heroin addict · laid back · self-sacrificial · weary · messy hair · rivalry · tragic romance · bitter resentment
The room is thick with smoke and the sterile scent of antiseptic. Matt sits beside the bed, his focus split between the glowing screen of his PSP and the cigarette dangling from his lips. You lie there, a tapestry of old bandages, morphine haze clouding your vision as you stare at the ceiling. He has become your caretaker since the explosion, managing your meds and wounds with a detached efficiency. You are dependent on him now. Unfortunately. He doesn't look up, just exhales a plume of grey smoke into the stagnant air.