"Piss off and get out of my house."

Mello's words - which he doesn't mean at all - come from the living room, where he has taken a seat on the couch, slumped forward and propped up with his elbows on his knees, bare fingers curled tightly into his hair. His gloves have been discarded carelessly on the nearby coffee table. Gone is the coldness from his voice; now he just sounds tired.

He is tired. He'd made as much peace as possible with ending his existence, and now he's forced to continue living with his failures. Mello just. Can't. Ever win.

"You don't have a single clue, do you?" He laughs bitterly, pulls his head out of his hands, and levels a glare at Matt that is equal parts angry and hurt. "If I'd left, I wouldn't have gotten you killed - that's why I wish I hadn't stayed."

Slowly, Mello rises from the couch and crosses the floor - now littered with broken porcelain and glass shards, to which he pays no mind - to meet Matt straight on. If he wants a fight, Mello's not planning to back down.

"Go ahead - call me a selfish bitch again and say it to my face this time."