TESTDisclaimer: Guess what – I put it into my profile :-)
Author's Note: I think this qualifies as a drabble.
Enjoy.
Firm Hand
Spring brings the smell of fresh earth and flowers as well as the stench of motorcycle fumes. Outside Wammy's House, the children turn their heads at the crackling noises from the motors and the blond, slender boy whom they call Mello when in fact he's anything but stares just a tad longer than the rest of the kids at the machines thundering by.
Sitting on the stairs that lead up to the entrance of Wammy's House, L is left to draw his own conclusions about Mello's possible thoughts on the most badass vehicle since the invention of badass-ness. Ever since he won custody over Mihael Kehl by a chess game four years ago in some ex-Yugoslavian backwater, he has grown quite good at reading his eldest heir.
Emotive outbursts and hissy fits mean there's nothing to worry.
It's when he seems still and almost dreamy, when his eyes are narrowed to catlike slits as they are now that you have to watch out.
There are two sorts of activities Wammy's kids are never allowed to engage in. The other one is horse riding. They all know the reason, too. But turning back to his soccer game, Mello catches his mentor's eye for a moment and L can see clearly now how the idea takes roots and shortly will outweigh any thought about the possibility of skull fracture.
When it comes to taking care of his own safety, Mello really is the dumbest genius ever. It must have something to do with his upbringing. (Doesn't it always?) He puts himself through hardships and exposes himself to dangers any other person would shy away from. Because he's lacking something fundamental, L thinks.
Somewhere on his way, he lost any instinct of self-preservation.
So in order to protect what's under the skull, L decides it's time to behave like an authority figure. Before Mello can break the eye contact, he lazily smiles around his thumb. "If I ever catch you riding one, I'll put you over my knee."