Disclaimer:Don't own the song lyrics; don't own the characters; don't own the quote, yeah.
Rating: M
Warnings: The usual: Cursing, weirdness, sex...
Spoilers: I'm not wearing shoes.
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"Your heart is my piñata."
Chuck Palahniuk
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Not quite;
By Azar-Apocalypse
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Chapter One:
We were both young when I first saw you...
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The library was easily Near's favourite place in Wammy's House. The scent of old books and the quiet sounds of children playing outside, dulled by layers of stone and mortar, never failed to calm him. Surrounded by and expanse of knowledge that had been acquired over centuries, Near felt at home.
There was a group of tables, situated halfway between the sections on English literature and modern history, which always remained unoccupied, except for when Near himself sat at them. The sunlight flowed into one of the windows that was high on the wall and provided just enough light for him to read well into the afternoon. When the sun set, it cast the room in a pink and orange haze, and then the lights came on, which meant that Near could read as long into the night as he wanted to.
The library was his home; the library was the place where he took refuge.
But something was not right.
Between a row of shelves on the French Revolution and Shakespeare's 'Macbeth' sat a boy that Near had never seen before; more important was the fact that this boy was holding Near's favourite book on Jean-Jacques Rousseau, and, as jam dripped from his fingers and onto the page, he looked up at Near with apparent disinterest.
Near clenched his fist and said pointedly, "You've put jam on the book."
The boy looked down at the book, then back up at Near. "Yes, I have," he said slowly, as if Near was stupid.
Feeling annoyed, Near continued, "Food isn't allowed in the library."
The boy picked up his jar of jam and scooped a handful of it into his palm. He licked at it deliberately and replied, "No, it's not."
Frustrated, Near took a book from a shelf at random and sat down at one of the tables. He was not quite close enough to read the titles of the books surrounding the other boy, but he was not so far away that he could not hear the sick squelching of jam being poked.
"Do you want me to put the book back?" the boy suddenly asked.
Near frowned minimally and answered, "No; feel free to keep dirtying it with jam."
In his peripheral vision, Near saw the boy shrug and continue to eat jam.
Near sighed to himself and read whatever book was in front of him, trying to ignore his frustration.
It was well past curfew when he finally finished the book. Near stood up, feeling calmer than he had in days, and made to put the book back.
The boy was still there, eating jam.
Near put the book back somewhat stiffly and began to walk away. He had never seen the boy before, so he would probably never have to see him again.
Hopefully, when the boy left, Near could salvage the book.
"You're leaving already?" the boy called after him, sounding somehow disappointed.
Near replied over his shoulder, "I'm going to bed. I suggest you do the same."
It was almost invisible in the dark shadows that shrouded the shelves, but the boy pouted. "Can I go with you?"
Near did not stop walking, though he was sorely tempted to turn around and glare at the boy. "You've got your own bed," he said curtly. "Please stop keeping me from mine."
The boy pouted again and responded, "But you're pretty, and you look just like He does... Do you want a lollipop?" He suddenly procured a sweet from his pocket and approached Near with it.
"No, thank you," Near said politely. He kept walking, hoping that the boy would stop following him.
"It's strawberry flavour," the boy said as he caught up to Near, holding out the lollipop expectantly. "Everyone likes strawberry flavour."
Near wondered how easy it would be to force someone to choke on a toy robot's arm. He clenched his fist around the Optimus Prime figurine in his hand and repeated firmly, "No, thank you."
The boy shrugged and popped the lollipop into his own mouth. "You," he mumbled around the candy, "aren't very friendly."
Just as Near was about to snap off Optimus Prime's arm and somehow force it down the boy's throat, the boy continued, his words slurred, "You know what 'N' is for? 'Near'. That's you, isn't it? You're nearly L. You're nearly perfect. You're nearly the best. You're nearly worth it... But you're not."
"Do you know what 'p' is for?" Near asked, feeling extremely bored with this boy.
The boy smirked around the lollipop and said, "Piss off."
Near turned down a corridor and faced his bedroom door. "Yes, perhaps you should," he said as he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.
The boy's laughter rang loud and clear in the night.
Near hated that he was curious.
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I'm bored and uninspired, so bite me, bitches.
The best bit? I'm not even going to reveal to you who 'the boy' is, though it's pretty obvious.