(Untitled)

[coordinated_n]

*Kitchen time, and Near is very exasperated.*

Who moved the jasmine tea, and where did they put it?

*He obviously hasn't slept well in a few days, please excuse the terseness.*

Comments

[yourfinaldeeds]

-Mello is actually minding his own business (for once), heading to the kitchen in search of - what else? - chocolate. He comes to a dead stop, scowling, when he sees Near.-

Oh. It's you again. Finish solving your little people-puzzles yet?

[coordinated_n]

Mostly.

*A sweet smile.*

[yourfinaldeeds]

-He folds his arms across his chest, take a leisurely step forward.-

Yeah, how's that working out for you?

[coordinated_n]

Very interesting.

*Recling back against the counter, setting his elbows on it and crossing his feet at the ankle.*

[reprism]

[looks up from his seated position, having not even noticed Near's entrance.] Oh! Sorry, that was me. I moved it two shelves up, it's just to the right of the kettle.

[coordinated_n]

Oh.

*He locates it, with only a little trouble, and goes to set the kettle on, taking a few deep breaths.*

I apologize for my tone. You did nothing wrong.

[reprism]

It's fine. You look awful, by the way.

[coordinated_n]

No doubt that's true.

You're the Light I know?

[antiqueatrocity]

So what if he's been hiding? A doesn't want to think about it. Refuses to admit it though. Way up, as far up as he could find in the mansion. After he left that day, he didn't know where else to go, so he went up. It seemed natural. There hadn't been any rooms on the eighth floor, so he'd been spending most of his time in the library, occasionally falling asleep over the library tables while he read. He's not avoiding anything. Really, he's not

[coordinated_n]

*Near drops his teacup, which crashes conspicuously to the floor. He's right in front of A in a split second, grabbing him by his sleeves.*

You! I thought you'd-

[antiqueatrocity]

A looks absolutely and utterly shocked to get such a violent reaction, letting out a quiet whimper as Near grabbed his sleeves in a rather uncomfortable area. The fridge door closes shut sinve he's not there to hold it, and A is busy trying to fight back the sudden flush and worm his sleeves from Near's grip, almost wincing as oddly strong fingers brushed against scars normally covered by bandages.

N-near? I--what are you... me?

He's horribly confused, and more than a little frightened by the sudden and unexpected show of emotion, biting at his lower lip and breathing in shakily.

[coordinated_n]

I thought you were- for all I knew, he'd, or you'd. And it was my fault. Why didn't you tell me where you went? I couldn't search for you, not without ending up, back-

*Hands fluttering up to cover his mouth, stopping himself from saying more, he's already said too much, since A doesn't want him reaching for him (the scars don't occur to him, he just thinks it's a message not to touch.) He's obviously not slept enough for this.*

[coordinated_n]

That was me, I'm sorry.

[coordinated_n]

I just missed the handle and knocked it.

[firm_detective]

*He steps into the kitchen and, without saying much, opens the refrigerator door. Then he begins to muse aloud to himself,*

Mm, let's see. No cake, but... a bowl of apples, and some... ah, these berry tarts will do.

*He pulls the plate of berry tarts out of the refrigerator and sets it on the counter.*

[coordinated_n]

Mind the broken china.

*Mild.*

[firm_detective]

*He looks around him, into the open kitchen, surveying the carnage.*

Quite.
Did the cabinets have a battle, or is there some more ordinary explanation?

[coordinated_n]

Mello hit me.

*Near shrugs.*