Mello walked down the long hallway, counting the green bills that had been crushed into his hand when all was said and done. His blonde, sweaty locks hung over his paled face and he growled in dissatisfaction when he realized that the amount was less than he'd been expecting. Embarrassed, he shoved the money into his leather-clad pocket and huffed
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Hey.
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"I sell-- ... I don't know how to put it without sounding..." Mello laughed bitterly, "Heh. I'm a damned prostitute, Mel."
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I'll tell you what I told the other version of us: I know enough about surviving that I won't think less of anyone for the things they've had to do for survival's sake.
*A short, bitter laugh.* I'm dead, after all. Died ending Kira. But here I am.
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You're Mello. No one says what kind of life you lead but you, remember?
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"You're right," he muttered simply and nodded slowly, "Yeah..."
He sighed and brushed his hair back.
"Then I fucked up."
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There's no such thing as fucking up beyond all fixing it.
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Come find me if you need anything. My room's labelled. *A little eyeroll at that. The mansion has resisted her every effort to remove the MEL'S ROOM sign from the door.*
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He nodded to her.
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