Mello & Near
Who: Near white_puzzles & Mello black_gloved
Where Near's room~!
When: Back-dated. March 22nd. (Before the masquerade, but after time was fixed)
Rating: PG-13 (For language, suggestive themes, and a wee bit of violence. (^o^; )
Summary: Mello, after trying to find a way out of the mansion by escaping through the forest, ends up passing out and then reawakening... in a rather strange place.
the Story:
Mello wasn't sure if he'd passed out or died.
But considering he eventually woke up, dazed and curled up in an unfamiliar bed, he assumed it was passing out. A venturing blink. Blurry. Everything was blurry. Burying his face into a pillow, Mello groaned.
It took a little to turn over, off his stomach. It took a little effort to feel his arm across the waist of the small body next to him.
It took a second before the realization of the hours prior hit him.
Like a speeding truck.
Full of dead puppies and other offensive items.
"Holy shit."
The blonde, in his eagerness to get out of that bed and fast, rolled over and fell on the floor with a loud thump. "...fucking stupid death trap of a forest."
Near opened his eyes quickly at that. He had always been a very light sleeper and the feeling of the bed being shaken by an unknown force, followed by a thump, was more than enough to take him back to the living world, as ironic as that might sound.
He sat up on the bed, eyes very open, and right before he could look at what in the Seven Hades was lying on the floor beside his bed, he heard a painfully familiar voice.
"...fucking stupid death trap of a forest."
Alright, the fact Mello was on his room (and maybe had been on his bed, too) was quite odd, but his brain didn’t take long to put 2 and 2 together. He had heard about people who tried to leave this place through the forest, only to magically end up in their own rooms. Perhaps this had been a futile attempt from the blonde to find something beyond this Mansion.
Why Mello had ended in up his room, that was a mystery.
Near started twirling his hair calmly and decided to speak, mostly to let the other one acknowledge his presence before it was too late, just in case he hadn’t yet.
"Good morning, Mello."
Dark eyes narrowed in annoyance as Mello immediately snapped out of the haze that clouded his mind upon hearing his rival's voice, "Don't freaking patronize me, bastard." The blonde bitterly glanced to the boy that was currently occupying the bed, the boy whose waist he had wrapped his arm around in an unconscious gesture of what, affection? No, never, surely not. He hated Near, and that would never change.
Tension rose in his joints, in the marrow of his bones as he let the events of the past day sink into his skull. The forest-- he had ventured into that god damned maze for nothing, vainly hoping to find a way out where there was none. There were no clear roads, no freedom from disillusionment; fire met with darkness and a lack of air before losing brilliantly in an uphill struggle.
This really fucking sucks.
Mello unsteadily rose to his feet, wavering haphazardly even when he had managed to fully stand up. "I bet you're enjoying this aren't you?" He swallowed dryly, tongue feeling oddly thick in his mouth, "Don't worry, I'll show myself out and spare you the trouble." A sneer as Mello placed a black gloved hand on his hip, steadying himself.
The pale boy stared at the blonde for a moment with his usually-emotionless eyes, observing him. Mello had been visibly weakened by the trip to the forest, and he was most likely very hungry and thirsty.
"It's inadvisable to leave this room in this status, Mello. You never know what you're going to find outside."
This said, Near stood up from the bed and approached the drawer, taking a chocolate bar from it. It was one of the bars he had been keeping in his pocket since he appeared here, after the painful addiction (which really wasn't such) of the bittersweet candy had taken over him. It didn't matter anymore; he wasn't planning to continue eating them. There was no point to it now.
Never changing his blank expression, he offered it to Mello.
"I have some water, too."
The chocolate bar was hastily snatched from Near's outstretched hand as a incredulous grin found its way to Mello's lips. "Since when do you keep chocolate on hand?" Coal black eyes flickered over Near's form, looking for an answer even though the blonde knew he'd find none.
Seconds passed and Mello's attention switched to the candy bar that he held in his hands, eyes wandering over the wrapper of the candy in an appraising fashion. In the end Mello's hunger for the sweet substance won out over the mild paranoia that had taken hold of his brain; the top corner of the wrapper was ripped off and discarded before the blonde took a rather large bite of the bittersweet chocolate (because that’s what addicts do, they can't control themselves).
"Water? I don't need it." Words were mouthed around the chocolate bar that had once again been lifted to his lips, "And I can take on anyone or anything that rears its ugly head. I'm not afraid of the outside." Another bite of chocolate was taken, another dry swallow. Perhaps he did need that water, but he didn't care. Didn't care at all.
No words came from Near's lips, as no attempt to give the other boy an explanation was made; said boy was too busy devouring the candy in an almost lusty fashion, so it was not as if he was really waiting for an answer.
Mello could be really stubborn, Near concluded, and he was never going to ask for anything even if his life depended on it. Quietly, Near walked toward the wardrobe, before he grabbed a small bottle of water he found in the kitchen after his conversation with the Cheshire Cat (he didn't have any other use for the wardrobe, after all, so he just used it to hide the water inside).
It was still half filled, and even if he guessed this wouldn’t be enough for someone who was dehydrated, he hoped it would at least relieve Mello some.
Near just offered Mello the half filled bottle, not saying a word. The blonde had stubbornly stated that he didn’t need it, but Near was 85% sure that Mello couldn't resist the temptation if he had the object of his desire right in front of him.
The blonde stared flatly at the half empty water bottle, "I told you I don't need it." Mello paused briefly, bringing the chocolate bar to his lips, this time opting to run his tongue over the bite marks he had left in the candy, slowly letting the taste pervade his mouth. "Save it for yourself. I don't want to be the object of your self righteous charity." Never-mind the fact that he had willingly taken the chocolate bar he was devouring straight from the hands of the other boy. That totally didn't count.
"You still haven't answered my question, Near." Glassy eyes were focused on his rival long enough to show that he expected an reply but looked away quickly enough to show that he wouldn't waste his precious time waiting for one.
Steps were taken forward, slowly but surely, hips swaying in time with each footfall under the cover of his tattered red coat. Mello stopped halfway to the doorway, pivoting on his foot to face the other, "Well?"
Near found himself staring at the way Mello was eating the chocolate bar; it was almost as if the candy was a lover. The thought only lasted a few seconds, though, as soon he turned his head to look away slightly with his always completely undisturbed and neutral expression, avoiding Mello's gaze.
"It's not charity but concern," Near said, toneless. He was sure that Mello would remember that past conversation they had in his journal. "I wouldn't want you to die a second time due to your blind stubbornness."
Ah, there it was, that question again. Mello had always been a very curious being, perhaps too much for his own good, but then again, so was he; and he was very curious about what would Mello's reaction be if he made him know how he has been remembering him all this time.
"I had it with me from before I appeared here."
When it came to Mello, he believed he didn't need to add more explanations.
Mello laughed out of anxiety, threw back his head, it wasn't at all hard to derive meaning from his rival's words. Honestly, he felt like he'd known the answer all along, and with the resurfacing of an old addiction that a lifelong lover like chocolate couldn't suppress, he didn't know what to do.
"Concern it may be, but it's not concern without an ulterior motive." The remainder of the chocolate bar was crushed with leather encased fingers, "Really Near, I never pegged you as the sentimental type. Who knew that you'd hold onto my memory in such a way?" Head cant to the right; bending at such an odd angle that it looked painful.
"I suppose the next thing you'll tell me is that in addition to developing a taste for chocolate, you laid flowers on my grave." Gaze was downcast, "Tch..."
The blonde fell silent, he was shaking, he was everything they both knew he would be and everything he never wanted to see breathing. Cornered like a carnivore devoid of all claws.
Silence was all that met Mello's words for a while, since Near was too busy focusing on his reactions. He knew that Mello had always been running away, and this, of course, wasn't an exception.
Finally, and after what might have been a mere minute but surely felt like hours, Near broke the silence with his soft, toneless voice.
"Why are you so scared of the truth?"
He kept staring at the older boy with those ironically lifeless eyes of his that always contrasted with Mello's fierce ones, despite the fact the one who was supposed to be alive was him, and not Mello.
Mello was struggling.
His head was a mess of emotions and he wanted nothing more than to leave, but dragging his body from the mud he'd lain in was a task easier faked than followed.
"And what truth would that be, Near?" Retaliation in the form of vehement words and a feral glare blazing with hatred -- although whether the hatred was for his rival or for himself was entirely unclear, "I see nothing before me but the remnants of a past that would be better off buried and a boy that never learned how to cope properly because of a fucking social deficiency."
The chocolate bar was tossed to the ground at Near's feet, "I'm not scared of the truth, I defy it."
"Is that so?" Near's tone sounded almost amused. He was eager to see how long Mello would last before running, or, in the worst case scenario, how long before Mello decided to use unwanted physical violence against him.
On the other hand, just what did he expect to accomplish by this? Earn Mello's friendship? He had never expected such a thing to happen, nor did he really need it. Just knowing that the other boy was alive somewhere in this world had always been enough for him; and how ironic (as everything related to them was), the time he felt closest to Mello was after his death.
"The truth, Mello," he continued with a voice devoid of any emotion, "is that both of us are incomplete on our own."
Mello shivered; it began in the tips of his fingers and pulsed into his arms. He shivered because Near's words, as detached as they were, rushed through his veins and wrapped around his mind like a thousand strings of thread. He could feel it inside his skull-- the tension of little threads being pulled and becoming entangled, tied together, and as he tried to pull them apart and rewind them back to their places, they snagged and tangled even more.
"Or so you would like to think." A low growl, followed by a whisper of a chuckle.
"I don't know what you're trying to prove," black gloved hands were flexed before they found their way to narrow hips, "even if I did accept your so-called truth, where would that leave us?" Mello's voice wavered with an edge of mania, a hint of violence, "For the love of fucking God, Near, what do you want from me?"
"Together we surpassed L." Near's voice was carefully masked, devoid of emotion once more. It was uncertain if he was merely hiding his emotions in order to not show any weakness in front of his rival, or perhaps he simply didn't know how to show them. "That's a fact that doesn't depend on what I'd personally like to think."
Mello's questions were getting harder to answer, Near noticed, due to the fact they were getting into a more personal area; it was actually the first time they had stopped for a moment to talk about both of them. However, Mello's tone spoke for itself, and Near had the feeling that the other boy wouldn't be able to hear any truth coming from his lips without becoming blinded by his anger. Mello wasn't a good listener when he was in such a mood, after all.
Turning his head slightly to the side in order to avoid the blonde's gaze, the pale boy reached for a lock of hair and twirled it once more, just needing to have his hands occupied with something.
There were a million ways to answer Mello's question, and Near found himself speechless for a moment. He could take it coldly and just offer a simple ’we could work together,’ but somehow such a thing felt wrong, empty at a moment like this. He had Mello in front of him, the ghost that would forever haunt him, the ghost he needed, as he admitted in front of Kira himself.
But Near had never been good at putting feelings into words (he had never had the need to, either), and he was certain that Mello would misunderstand him once more.
Finally, he parted his lips to give the other boy an answer that wasn't an answer, but that still had so much meaning to him.
"I never hated you, Mello."
Mello smiled, baring his teeth slowly and dangerously, he had known that fact all along; it was the fact that bothered him the most, the fact that now managed to ground him and give him purpose. Where he was filled with hatred that boiled deep within his skin; seared flesh with an angry heat, Near was impassive, wondrously apathetic, perhaps only feeling true hatred for the man that had murdered their hero in cold blood.
"I suppose I'll have to make you hate me, then."
You don't have a choice.
"Together we may have surpassed L, but divided we'll fall into our own personal hells. And that, I have no problem with." Mello had always been destined to crash and burn, this place, this tall-tale wonderland would be no different. "There is nothing left for us anymore, I'm a dead man and you're a stagnant genius without his toys. This game is over."
Mello turned on his heel, heading for the door without looking back.
As if something had just broken inside Near, he had a sudden, strange urge he couldn't really classify. Right after Mello turned to the door, Near's hand reached for him, grabbing the other boy's jacket with his fingers and looked up at him with very open eyes.
A few seconds later, realization hit him like a violent wave and forced him to let go of the other boy. He did it slowly, though, in a calm way.
Just what had that been about? He never acted on impulse, never; Mello did it enough for the both of them.
Perhaps it was that this whole situation had finally got to him? He shouldn't have had a second chance, after all; it wasn't how things were supposed to be. His cold logic had already been damaged, and the idea of seeing Mello go for a second time didn't cope well in his mind, it seemed.
His eyes were soon back to his emotionless, lifeless ones, avoiding Mello's gaze again and twirling his hair like before. He wasn't planning on indulging in this feeling or letting any emotion take over. A second ago his whole world shook because Mello was about to leave, and now, he didn't wish for anything more than to be left alone.
Mello froze, not because of the way small hands tugged on his jacket, but because of what he saw in Near's eyes when he turned around. Everything he didn't want to see, everything he didn't want to become, everything he feared was mirrored in the other's gaze, and it was all he could do just to look away. The blonde closed his eyes, not wanting to see anymore.
For the love of God.
For the love of God.
For the love of God
why did he have to look back? Why did Near bother to stop him from leaving in the first place? It wasn't right, none of it was; everything Mello knew and was familiar with was falling apart at the seams, unraveling into a mess that he didn't want to be caught in (though somehow he knew he already was).
Near was supposed to be sterile, unmoving, unwanting-- everything that he wasn't and everything that he could never be. But something had broken, and Mello didn't know how to cope with the fragmented shards that laid at his feet.
Then Near slowly retracted his hands, collecting himself, raising those god damned fingers of his to twirl his hair like a mother fucking retard, becoming the machine that he was born to be.
Mello couldn't stand it.
A hand snaked out, ensnaring Near's wrist in a crushing grip, "Don't you ever think that you can stop me from doing what I want." Don't think that I care about what you want, either.
Near didn't show any reaction when he felt Mello's force on his wrist, enduring the pain quietly. Somehow, and despite the fact he wasn't usually comfortable about being touched, deep inside he even welcomed this harsh touch.
It reminded him that Mello was alive.
No, it reminded him and he himself was.
"I've never tried to stop you." His voice sounded calm and neutral, completely in control of his own feelings. Whatever had happened a minute ago had merely been a single moment of weakness, something he wasn't going to allow happening again.
Near's empty eyes finally meet the other boy's.
"But, Mello, do you even know what you want?"
Mello hesitated, his grip on Near's wrist loosening. Even though Mello said nothing in reply to the other's question, the answer was apparent in his eyes.
He didn't know what he wanted. He didn't know. He didn't fucking know.
He had no idea, no inkling, no misnomered cause-- no irreversible truth to turn to except for the hatred that he felt for Near-- the hatred that was all he had left.
Mello tore himself away, releasing Near's wrist, maintaining his silence even as he walked to the door, swinging it open and making his way out, not bothering to close it behind him.
oh bother, oh lover, when all is said and bombed
you'll be the one minced in my bones
powdered to a desperate
liquid caked inside
this hole i call
a home.
Where Near's room~!
When: Back-dated. March 22nd. (Before the masquerade, but after time was fixed)
Rating: PG-13 (For language, suggestive themes, and a wee bit of violence. (^o^; )
Summary: Mello, after trying to find a way out of the mansion by escaping through the forest, ends up passing out and then reawakening... in a rather strange place.
the Story:
Mello wasn't sure if he'd passed out or died.
But considering he eventually woke up, dazed and curled up in an unfamiliar bed, he assumed it was passing out. A venturing blink. Blurry. Everything was blurry. Burying his face into a pillow, Mello groaned.
It took a little to turn over, off his stomach. It took a little effort to feel his arm across the waist of the small body next to him.
It took a second before the realization of the hours prior hit him.
Like a speeding truck.
Full of dead puppies and other offensive items.
"Holy shit."
The blonde, in his eagerness to get out of that bed and fast, rolled over and fell on the floor with a loud thump. "...fucking stupid death trap of a forest."
Near opened his eyes quickly at that. He had always been a very light sleeper and the feeling of the bed being shaken by an unknown force, followed by a thump, was more than enough to take him back to the living world, as ironic as that might sound.
He sat up on the bed, eyes very open, and right before he could look at what in the Seven Hades was lying on the floor beside his bed, he heard a painfully familiar voice.
"...fucking stupid death trap of a forest."
Alright, the fact Mello was on his room (and maybe had been on his bed, too) was quite odd, but his brain didn’t take long to put 2 and 2 together. He had heard about people who tried to leave this place through the forest, only to magically end up in their own rooms. Perhaps this had been a futile attempt from the blonde to find something beyond this Mansion.
Why Mello had ended in up his room, that was a mystery.
Near started twirling his hair calmly and decided to speak, mostly to let the other one acknowledge his presence before it was too late, just in case he hadn’t yet.
"Good morning, Mello."
Dark eyes narrowed in annoyance as Mello immediately snapped out of the haze that clouded his mind upon hearing his rival's voice, "Don't freaking patronize me, bastard." The blonde bitterly glanced to the boy that was currently occupying the bed, the boy whose waist he had wrapped his arm around in an unconscious gesture of what, affection? No, never, surely not. He hated Near, and that would never change.
Tension rose in his joints, in the marrow of his bones as he let the events of the past day sink into his skull. The forest-- he had ventured into that god damned maze for nothing, vainly hoping to find a way out where there was none. There were no clear roads, no freedom from disillusionment; fire met with darkness and a lack of air before losing brilliantly in an uphill struggle.
This really fucking sucks.
Mello unsteadily rose to his feet, wavering haphazardly even when he had managed to fully stand up. "I bet you're enjoying this aren't you?" He swallowed dryly, tongue feeling oddly thick in his mouth, "Don't worry, I'll show myself out and spare you the trouble." A sneer as Mello placed a black gloved hand on his hip, steadying himself.
The pale boy stared at the blonde for a moment with his usually-emotionless eyes, observing him. Mello had been visibly weakened by the trip to the forest, and he was most likely very hungry and thirsty.
"It's inadvisable to leave this room in this status, Mello. You never know what you're going to find outside."
This said, Near stood up from the bed and approached the drawer, taking a chocolate bar from it. It was one of the bars he had been keeping in his pocket since he appeared here, after the painful addiction (which really wasn't such) of the bittersweet candy had taken over him. It didn't matter anymore; he wasn't planning to continue eating them. There was no point to it now.
Never changing his blank expression, he offered it to Mello.
"I have some water, too."
The chocolate bar was hastily snatched from Near's outstretched hand as a incredulous grin found its way to Mello's lips. "Since when do you keep chocolate on hand?" Coal black eyes flickered over Near's form, looking for an answer even though the blonde knew he'd find none.
Seconds passed and Mello's attention switched to the candy bar that he held in his hands, eyes wandering over the wrapper of the candy in an appraising fashion. In the end Mello's hunger for the sweet substance won out over the mild paranoia that had taken hold of his brain; the top corner of the wrapper was ripped off and discarded before the blonde took a rather large bite of the bittersweet chocolate (because that’s what addicts do, they can't control themselves).
"Water? I don't need it." Words were mouthed around the chocolate bar that had once again been lifted to his lips, "And I can take on anyone or anything that rears its ugly head. I'm not afraid of the outside." Another bite of chocolate was taken, another dry swallow. Perhaps he did need that water, but he didn't care. Didn't care at all.
No words came from Near's lips, as no attempt to give the other boy an explanation was made; said boy was too busy devouring the candy in an almost lusty fashion, so it was not as if he was really waiting for an answer.
Mello could be really stubborn, Near concluded, and he was never going to ask for anything even if his life depended on it. Quietly, Near walked toward the wardrobe, before he grabbed a small bottle of water he found in the kitchen after his conversation with the Cheshire Cat (he didn't have any other use for the wardrobe, after all, so he just used it to hide the water inside).
It was still half filled, and even if he guessed this wouldn’t be enough for someone who was dehydrated, he hoped it would at least relieve Mello some.
Near just offered Mello the half filled bottle, not saying a word. The blonde had stubbornly stated that he didn’t need it, but Near was 85% sure that Mello couldn't resist the temptation if he had the object of his desire right in front of him.
The blonde stared flatly at the half empty water bottle, "I told you I don't need it." Mello paused briefly, bringing the chocolate bar to his lips, this time opting to run his tongue over the bite marks he had left in the candy, slowly letting the taste pervade his mouth. "Save it for yourself. I don't want to be the object of your self righteous charity." Never-mind the fact that he had willingly taken the chocolate bar he was devouring straight from the hands of the other boy. That totally didn't count.
"You still haven't answered my question, Near." Glassy eyes were focused on his rival long enough to show that he expected an reply but looked away quickly enough to show that he wouldn't waste his precious time waiting for one.
Steps were taken forward, slowly but surely, hips swaying in time with each footfall under the cover of his tattered red coat. Mello stopped halfway to the doorway, pivoting on his foot to face the other, "Well?"
Near found himself staring at the way Mello was eating the chocolate bar; it was almost as if the candy was a lover. The thought only lasted a few seconds, though, as soon he turned his head to look away slightly with his always completely undisturbed and neutral expression, avoiding Mello's gaze.
"It's not charity but concern," Near said, toneless. He was sure that Mello would remember that past conversation they had in his journal. "I wouldn't want you to die a second time due to your blind stubbornness."
Ah, there it was, that question again. Mello had always been a very curious being, perhaps too much for his own good, but then again, so was he; and he was very curious about what would Mello's reaction be if he made him know how he has been remembering him all this time.
"I had it with me from before I appeared here."
When it came to Mello, he believed he didn't need to add more explanations.
Mello laughed out of anxiety, threw back his head, it wasn't at all hard to derive meaning from his rival's words. Honestly, he felt like he'd known the answer all along, and with the resurfacing of an old addiction that a lifelong lover like chocolate couldn't suppress, he didn't know what to do.
"Concern it may be, but it's not concern without an ulterior motive." The remainder of the chocolate bar was crushed with leather encased fingers, "Really Near, I never pegged you as the sentimental type. Who knew that you'd hold onto my memory in such a way?" Head cant to the right; bending at such an odd angle that it looked painful.
"I suppose the next thing you'll tell me is that in addition to developing a taste for chocolate, you laid flowers on my grave." Gaze was downcast, "Tch..."
The blonde fell silent, he was shaking, he was everything they both knew he would be and everything he never wanted to see breathing. Cornered like a carnivore devoid of all claws.
Silence was all that met Mello's words for a while, since Near was too busy focusing on his reactions. He knew that Mello had always been running away, and this, of course, wasn't an exception.
Finally, and after what might have been a mere minute but surely felt like hours, Near broke the silence with his soft, toneless voice.
"Why are you so scared of the truth?"
He kept staring at the older boy with those ironically lifeless eyes of his that always contrasted with Mello's fierce ones, despite the fact the one who was supposed to be alive was him, and not Mello.
Mello was struggling.
His head was a mess of emotions and he wanted nothing more than to leave, but dragging his body from the mud he'd lain in was a task easier faked than followed.
"And what truth would that be, Near?" Retaliation in the form of vehement words and a feral glare blazing with hatred -- although whether the hatred was for his rival or for himself was entirely unclear, "I see nothing before me but the remnants of a past that would be better off buried and a boy that never learned how to cope properly because of a fucking social deficiency."
The chocolate bar was tossed to the ground at Near's feet, "I'm not scared of the truth, I defy it."
"Is that so?" Near's tone sounded almost amused. He was eager to see how long Mello would last before running, or, in the worst case scenario, how long before Mello decided to use unwanted physical violence against him.
On the other hand, just what did he expect to accomplish by this? Earn Mello's friendship? He had never expected such a thing to happen, nor did he really need it. Just knowing that the other boy was alive somewhere in this world had always been enough for him; and how ironic (as everything related to them was), the time he felt closest to Mello was after his death.
"The truth, Mello," he continued with a voice devoid of any emotion, "is that both of us are incomplete on our own."
Mello shivered; it began in the tips of his fingers and pulsed into his arms. He shivered because Near's words, as detached as they were, rushed through his veins and wrapped around his mind like a thousand strings of thread. He could feel it inside his skull-- the tension of little threads being pulled and becoming entangled, tied together, and as he tried to pull them apart and rewind them back to their places, they snagged and tangled even more.
"Or so you would like to think." A low growl, followed by a whisper of a chuckle.
"I don't know what you're trying to prove," black gloved hands were flexed before they found their way to narrow hips, "even if I did accept your so-called truth, where would that leave us?" Mello's voice wavered with an edge of mania, a hint of violence, "For the love of fucking God, Near, what do you want from me?"
"Together we surpassed L." Near's voice was carefully masked, devoid of emotion once more. It was uncertain if he was merely hiding his emotions in order to not show any weakness in front of his rival, or perhaps he simply didn't know how to show them. "That's a fact that doesn't depend on what I'd personally like to think."
Mello's questions were getting harder to answer, Near noticed, due to the fact they were getting into a more personal area; it was actually the first time they had stopped for a moment to talk about both of them. However, Mello's tone spoke for itself, and Near had the feeling that the other boy wouldn't be able to hear any truth coming from his lips without becoming blinded by his anger. Mello wasn't a good listener when he was in such a mood, after all.
Turning his head slightly to the side in order to avoid the blonde's gaze, the pale boy reached for a lock of hair and twirled it once more, just needing to have his hands occupied with something.
There were a million ways to answer Mello's question, and Near found himself speechless for a moment. He could take it coldly and just offer a simple ’we could work together,’ but somehow such a thing felt wrong, empty at a moment like this. He had Mello in front of him, the ghost that would forever haunt him, the ghost he needed, as he admitted in front of Kira himself.
But Near had never been good at putting feelings into words (he had never had the need to, either), and he was certain that Mello would misunderstand him once more.
Finally, he parted his lips to give the other boy an answer that wasn't an answer, but that still had so much meaning to him.
"I never hated you, Mello."
Mello smiled, baring his teeth slowly and dangerously, he had known that fact all along; it was the fact that bothered him the most, the fact that now managed to ground him and give him purpose. Where he was filled with hatred that boiled deep within his skin; seared flesh with an angry heat, Near was impassive, wondrously apathetic, perhaps only feeling true hatred for the man that had murdered their hero in cold blood.
"I suppose I'll have to make you hate me, then."
You don't have a choice.
"Together we may have surpassed L, but divided we'll fall into our own personal hells. And that, I have no problem with." Mello had always been destined to crash and burn, this place, this tall-tale wonderland would be no different. "There is nothing left for us anymore, I'm a dead man and you're a stagnant genius without his toys. This game is over."
Mello turned on his heel, heading for the door without looking back.
As if something had just broken inside Near, he had a sudden, strange urge he couldn't really classify. Right after Mello turned to the door, Near's hand reached for him, grabbing the other boy's jacket with his fingers and looked up at him with very open eyes.
A few seconds later, realization hit him like a violent wave and forced him to let go of the other boy. He did it slowly, though, in a calm way.
Just what had that been about? He never acted on impulse, never; Mello did it enough for the both of them.
Perhaps it was that this whole situation had finally got to him? He shouldn't have had a second chance, after all; it wasn't how things were supposed to be. His cold logic had already been damaged, and the idea of seeing Mello go for a second time didn't cope well in his mind, it seemed.
His eyes were soon back to his emotionless, lifeless ones, avoiding Mello's gaze again and twirling his hair like before. He wasn't planning on indulging in this feeling or letting any emotion take over. A second ago his whole world shook because Mello was about to leave, and now, he didn't wish for anything more than to be left alone.
Mello froze, not because of the way small hands tugged on his jacket, but because of what he saw in Near's eyes when he turned around. Everything he didn't want to see, everything he didn't want to become, everything he feared was mirrored in the other's gaze, and it was all he could do just to look away. The blonde closed his eyes, not wanting to see anymore.
For the love of God.
For the love of God.
For the love of God
why did he have to look back? Why did Near bother to stop him from leaving in the first place? It wasn't right, none of it was; everything Mello knew and was familiar with was falling apart at the seams, unraveling into a mess that he didn't want to be caught in (though somehow he knew he already was).
Near was supposed to be sterile, unmoving, unwanting-- everything that he wasn't and everything that he could never be. But something had broken, and Mello didn't know how to cope with the fragmented shards that laid at his feet.
Then Near slowly retracted his hands, collecting himself, raising those god damned fingers of his to twirl his hair like a mother fucking retard, becoming the machine that he was born to be.
Mello couldn't stand it.
A hand snaked out, ensnaring Near's wrist in a crushing grip, "Don't you ever think that you can stop me from doing what I want." Don't think that I care about what you want, either.
Near didn't show any reaction when he felt Mello's force on his wrist, enduring the pain quietly. Somehow, and despite the fact he wasn't usually comfortable about being touched, deep inside he even welcomed this harsh touch.
It reminded him that Mello was alive.
No, it reminded him and he himself was.
"I've never tried to stop you." His voice sounded calm and neutral, completely in control of his own feelings. Whatever had happened a minute ago had merely been a single moment of weakness, something he wasn't going to allow happening again.
Near's empty eyes finally meet the other boy's.
"But, Mello, do you even know what you want?"
Mello hesitated, his grip on Near's wrist loosening. Even though Mello said nothing in reply to the other's question, the answer was apparent in his eyes.
He didn't know what he wanted. He didn't know. He didn't fucking know.
He had no idea, no inkling, no misnomered cause-- no irreversible truth to turn to except for the hatred that he felt for Near-- the hatred that was all he had left.
Mello tore himself away, releasing Near's wrist, maintaining his silence even as he walked to the door, swinging it open and making his way out, not bothering to close it behind him.
oh bother, oh lover, when all is said and bombed
you'll be the one minced in my bones
powdered to a desperate
liquid caked inside
this hole i call
a home.