Guess what? I'm back. Sorry I've been gone, I started college this year, and holy crap! I was NOT expecting this. Anyway, I've been meaning to make a return, and what better date than December 13? My favorite character's birthday. Happy birthday, my beautiful angel.
-Picasso
It was a snowy December morning when Mello awoke. The sun glinting off the beautiful blanket momentarily blinding him. Slowly, the petite blonde sat up, catlike, sapphire eyes scanning the seemingly empty room. They were all gone. No noise came from the bunk below, or the beds across the room. Not one sound could be heard from the hallway.
Of course, Mello became suspicious. Of course he would, he was trained in the art of suspicion, of distrust. From the moment he was dropped on the snowy doorstep of Whammy's house, he had been trained to be afraid. Silently, he slithered from beneath the blankets, not allowing the cold air to pull a shocked gasp from him. He tiptoed across the marble floor, a black ink spot in the never-ending whiteness that had become his life.
He pushed the door open carefully, wincing as it creaked loudly, the sound echoing throughout the seemingly empty orphanage. His ears perked at the sound of his own bare feet. His eyes narrowed as he passed by rows of locked doors, his hand moving to his pocket, finding a chocolate bar to ease his need of oral addiction.
There was no sound, everyone appeared to be gone.
Suddenly, there was movement, at the end of the hallway. Mello raised his head, making eye contact with the quiet, white-haired boy at the end of the hallway. Pure and feminine with the way he moved. Immediately, Mello's heart swelled, his fists and jaw clenched as he stepped forward threateningly. Near turned his attention to the blonde, thunderstruck eyes scanning over him.
"Hello, Mello." The voice was quiet, laced gently with musical traces of an English accent. The blonde's temper flared, and silently, he moved forward, a small smirk on his pretty face. He said nothing until he approached, they were standing close enough that Near could taste the chocolatey breath on his pale face.
"Where is everyone?" Mello asked quietly. Near shrugged, leaning his back against the wall, and sliding down slowly. Mello followed close behind, glancing at the pale boy with mild interest. Near smiled at him, and the blonde looked away. Not ready to fall into the porcelain trap.
"Why are you still here?" Mello asked, looking at the wall opposite them. He felt Near's hand slide into his, and, slowly, he let his hand close. Unsure of what was happening. His heart seemed to speed up, but this time, with a new emotion. Something that was not long-lived hate. He turned to face the marble boy, offering a gentle smile, maybe he would fall into the trap.
"Happy birthday, Mello." Near said quietly, it was the only response Mello was given. He opened his mouth to respond, but, before he could, his thoughts were interrupted by Near's lips. It was a butterfly peck, but it seemed to last for years. And, by the time Mello was ready to react, Near was already half way down the hall, his words and touch forever burned into Mello's mind.
Very, very short. But, it's okay. Be expecting more over Christmas break. This is kind of bad because I'm wicked tired, and haven't been writing enough to keep my technique. Review, guys. I miss you.