Smoking sessions. That's the only thing that keeps whatever sort of connection you have—on a fragile strand permeated with tobacco.

Matt doesn't mind. It's much easier, in his eyes, than confessing about his feelings, which he hasn't even figured out himself what they are. He likes being around you. It's comfortable. But it's not the same 'comfortable' as with Mello or...no, he doesn't have that many friends to continue that sentence, but the point is clear. His stomach twists in a surprisingly nice way every time you meet, and his brain stops working correctly when he hears your voice; he's left to stand like a fool, stealing glances when your stare is focused on whatever.

But one thing that many geniuses have in common is low social skills. Maybe because he came in third place in Wammy's house, he was slightly better than his companions, and he knew how to use his facial expressions and make decent jokes; however, it didn't take away the fact that he was a damn loser in relationships. He's awkward, and real life isn't as easy as a video game. He can't shower you with gifts and click the right dialogue option to make you fall for him, because apparently, reality has no script, and he can't enter Google to search up the playthrough. Not like he uses it, he was a smart cookie—even if half of his abilities were used in things like completing a game on 100% achievements...

yooo

The date between the last message and his silly 'yooo' reply is nearly two weeks. You rarely use the phone to communicate because anonymity is what Wammy's House teaches, and then it sticks to you like a chewed gum, but God, he can't help but read your simplistic conversations over and over, whether it's in the morning on the cold, windy street or deep at midnight when he's curling up in his bed and smiles at the screen like a tiny, smitten girl. 'Stop being a coward and confess already.'—Mello had scolded him up to no end and continues from that day on, yet Matt never listens. It's good when it's simple, no? There's no need to complicate or rush—that's what he repeats to himself when he catches his thoughts wandering off to you again.

we meet at your place then ?? ok b (its thumbs uo) up* make sure to hide all of your embarrassing things haha or not, i don't care

It's pathetic how he tries to sound nonchalant while his heart is doing cartwheels in between his ribs. You had this trust that allowed you to be each other's guests, although Matt almost never finds the courage to ask you to hang out at his apartment. He's not certain that he won't sound like a creep, and he prefers not to try his luck on that one. He's up to take risks, but not when it comes to what should be secure. You had visited him in the past, of course, but only for short periods of time. Now it's his time to visit you, and oh boy, he's a lost cause.

"Sup?" When the door opens, the first thing he does is to look around—mostly the floor, out of the foreign sensation of timidness creeping on the back of his head. You're ruining him, breaking the confidence he built up with years of effort, and he likes it.