death in one corner leaves a space in the other. [private thread]

[reprism]

[putting the pencil aside, Light re-reads the note; despite his somewhat shaky handwriting, it's clearly intelligible.

Hey L. If you wake up and I'm gone, don't freak out. I'm fine. I've gone to visit Mello - our Mello. I've written directions from my room to his on the back of this page. Promise I won't die on my way; not sure when I'll be

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[yourfinaldeeds]

-Mello is sprawled haphazardly on his bed. There are traces of green residue running in trails all over his face, and patches of green crusted slime all over the bed, the walls, everything. His eyes are squeezed shut; he's focused on simply breathing through the pain of whatever is wrong with him. It feels like his insides are melting - which, actually, they are, but he doesn't know it. He doesn't even lift his head from the bed when he hears the knock on his door. He can't imagine who could be at his door right now, but he's too weak and in too much pain to care, really. He coughs, rolling to his side a little, on reflex, so he doesn't choke on the green ooze he's bound to spit up, then takes a slow, careful breath and says as loudly as he can muster:-

It's open.

[reprism]

[Light turns the doorknob and then steps inside, halting when he catches sight of Mello. he doesn't look horrified; he's past that, by this point.] Hey. I'd ask 'how are you' but... it's pretty obviously redundant. [closing the door.]

[yourfinaldeeds]

-Mello doesn't even open his eyes. He doesn't have to - he recognizes the voice, and the tone, and he merely sighs, exhausted.-

What do you want, Light.

[reprism]

I don't want anything. I'm just here. [taking a seat, carefully, on the edge of the bed.] No reason, no motive. Just... to let you know that I am. [he's not entirely sure what he's saying; but somehow it seems to make sense. maybe it's just the fever talking.]