notes: Mm, I don't know. Just a random drabble, I guess.
"Backup. Backup, now."
All eyes were on the little boy in the corner, knees huddled against his chest and a jar of strawberry jam by his side. Peering closely, it would appear that he was scribbling on the walls with a red crayon.
Mello folded his arms and scowled. "B-- Backup, how many times do I have to say stop? Oh, oh, they won't be happy when they find out what you've done."
B turned his head just slightly to stare at the other boy. "…Why not?" he said.
"Why-- why not? Just look!" Mello pointed an accusing finger at the wall. "You've ruined part of the House. I hope they make you scrub it until it sparkles," he added with a haughty scoff.
"B likes it, though." B pressed roughly with the crayon, tracing the lines he had already drawn. "He hopes that--L likes it, too."
Mello closed his eyes, snorting at B's comment. "What? You really think L would notice something like a silly doodle?"
"Perhaps."
B leaned back to inspect the wall carefully. He reached into the jar and scooped a handful of jam into his mouth; Mello peered out of a half-lidded eye and cringed at the sight. "You really should try using a sp--"
His gaze, eyes now considerably wide, fell upon the wall. All words left him. The boy in the corner, smiling and admiring his work. "Isn't it beautiful?" he whispered softly.
On the wall, scribbled in messy red crayon, was what appeared to be a man with large, dark eyes, strands of hair falling into his face. Undoubtedly L. But what really disturbed Mello, and later, the remainder of the House--
--was the large, bloodied knife protruding from his stomach.
"Oh!" B exclaimed, and scuttled to the drawing. "I almost for got to add…"
He backed away once more, beaming. "Love, B.B.," he read aloud.