(no subject)
Who: Light, Matt, Mello.
When: Saturday, mid-morning.
Where: One of those convenient local parks... things... whatever. Later, Mello and Matt's apartment.
What: Hopefully, a resolution of some drama and... Light getting angry, Mello and Matt being dysfunctional, that sort of good stuff.
Warnings: ... cursing, probably? *shrug*
Leaning back against the gnarled old birch tree near the entrance of the park, Light covered a yawn with his hand. He was tired in that all-encompassing way that made his whole body seem to ache dully with a physical desire to find the nearest flat surface and just collapse on it and close his eyes. I probably look like hell, too, he thought wryly; after (another) largely restless night, he had freshened himself up as best he could, but he was aware of his chapped lips, the circles under his eyes, his slightly haggard complexion.
He'd have to do something about that, Light thought. It was no good to make people think that he was stressed or troubled; he didn't want them meddling. Didn't want them worrying. Didn't want that hypocrisy of people caring about one individual, but then not opening their hearts to care about all the others, only because they knew one and didn't know the other.
Better to care about the institutions rather than the individuals; that Light could accept. It was all or nothing and he couldn't care about every single person--
Aware that his thoughts were circling away from him again, Light drew in a sharp breath, forcing his attention to the gates of the park. He had finally gotten Mello to, at least, agree to meet him -- now it was just a matter of seeing if the other senior would show up.
When: Saturday, mid-morning.
Where: One of those convenient local parks... things... whatever. Later, Mello and Matt's apartment.
What: Hopefully, a resolution of some drama and... Light getting angry, Mello and Matt being dysfunctional, that sort of good stuff.
Warnings: ... cursing, probably? *shrug*
Leaning back against the gnarled old birch tree near the entrance of the park, Light covered a yawn with his hand. He was tired in that all-encompassing way that made his whole body seem to ache dully with a physical desire to find the nearest flat surface and just collapse on it and close his eyes. I probably look like hell, too, he thought wryly; after (another) largely restless night, he had freshened himself up as best he could, but he was aware of his chapped lips, the circles under his eyes, his slightly haggard complexion.
He'd have to do something about that, Light thought. It was no good to make people think that he was stressed or troubled; he didn't want them meddling. Didn't want them worrying. Didn't want that hypocrisy of people caring about one individual, but then not opening their hearts to care about all the others, only because they knew one and didn't know the other.
Better to care about the institutions rather than the individuals; that Light could accept. It was all or nothing and he couldn't care about every single person--
Aware that his thoughts were circling away from him again, Light drew in a sharp breath, forcing his attention to the gates of the park. He had finally gotten Mello to, at least, agree to meet him -- now it was just a matter of seeing if the other senior would show up.