I better get this over with...
Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or it's characters. All rights go to their original owners. The only thing I do own is the fact that I wrote this fanfiction.
Hope I did that correctly.
Okay, so this is my first fanfiction...ever. Please don't post too harsh criticisms. I'm not even sure I like this story. It's not that amazing, and I wrote it in about three days. If you don't like it, I'm fine with that, but could you please tell me what I need to improve on? Read and review, please. Thank you! Now, on to the story...
You were always first, my sweet white angel.
When we took tests, you always got the highest score. When we got into one-sided arguments, you were always the first to walk away. When the power went out (to Matt's horror), you were the first to offer Matt and me a few puzzles to occupy the time. When Roger handed out chocolate bars, you were the first to hand yours to me and say, "I think you'll like this better than I will." When we fell in love that one summer night, lying beneath that tree out in the backyard, you were the first to wrap your fragile arms around my neck and murmur, "I love you."
To keep our relationship on the down-low so we didn't get bullied, you were the first to suggest we continue acting as rivals. You were the first to kiss me. You were the first person I ever loved. You came first in my life.
When L chose potential successors, you were the first one that came to his mind.
The night Roger told both of us the news of L's death, I was first for a moment. You offered to work with me so we could finally drop the rival act. I flew off the handle, refusing faster than the blink of an eye. I loved the thought of being "L" more than I loved you. I declared I was leaving. I knew you were worried, but you didn't show it. You were always good at hiding your emotions. The door shut behind me with a clack. A few minutes after you were dismissed, you found me in our shared room, shoveling my clothing into a bag. You rested a gentle hand on my arm.
"Don't go, Mello. Please, don't leave me. I love you." I could hear your voice crack.
I stuffed more clothes into my bag. "I'm leaving. You can't stop me."
"Mello, please," you begged, "stay here with me. Think of Roger and Wammy. Think of Matt. He'll be lost without you. I'll be lost without you! Mello, please-"
I couldn't bear to listen to your pleas. I placed the last of the contents in my bag, turned around, and shoved you into the floor.
I was the first person to break your heart. I was the first person to make you feel.
You groaned and sat up, hurt from the fall and the emotional pain. "I don't understand. I thought – I thought you loved me." You looked up at me with tears in your eyes. I looked away from those pitiful eyes – the same ones that would haunt my dreams forever.
I zipped up the bag and stepped over your legs.
"Mello, wait."
I paused for a moment. You got back on your feet and approached me.
"Mello…" Those onyx orbs searched my face for some hint of regret. There was none to be found.
Then you stood on your toes and crushed our lips together.
The world was right, and the world was wrong. I felt nothing but bliss in this moment. Your arms flew around me, no longer gentle. Your thin fingers twisted through my hair. This kiss wasn't slow and soft like so many other we shared. It was demanding and controlling and desperate. If I could, I would have stayed in this moment, this peaceful gray between the black and white.
Life was so bittersweet.
I put all my force into pushing you into the wall. The impact made a loud thud. I felt remorse as I watched you sink to your knees helplessly. It felt like we switched roles. My face showed no signs of emotion while yours showed all the emotion you'd probably ever have in your entire life. Your eyes were shut tight, and tears streamed down your face. You sobbed, and I panted.
Finally, after a full five wordless minutes passed, you moved. You pulled a red puzzle piece out of an easily concealed pocket in your white pajama shirt. I quickly recognized it as a piece from the heart-shaped puzzle I gave you for Valentine's Day last year. With shaky hands, you placed the piece into my palm and curl my fingers around it. Your hand caressed my face one last time. Then you moved to the bed, picked up my half-consumed chocolate bar, and held it close to your heart. I could sense you were waiting for my departure. You didn't have to wait for very much time.
The rain drenched me almost instantly the second I set foot outdoors. "I'll live life my own way," I whispered as I locked the slippery gates of Wammy's House shut, "but I still love you."
Before I turned around, I caught a glimpse of your face in the window of our – err, your – bedroom. It was wiped clean of emotion, except the tears. It broke whatever was left of my heart. I had to leave this instant. If I didn't, you might run outside in attempt to stop me. You could catch a cold in the rain. The last thing I wanted was for you to be sick. Hell, the last thing that I wanted was to leave. The curtain fell over the window, and I set out for my long journey.
You were utterly emotionless that day forward, as far as I knew.
I fed off power and soon lost my way, determined to beat you – no, I was determined to beat everyone. I forgot about that summer night. I forgot the blissfulness of that kiss. I forgot how your sweet embrace felt. To put it plainly, my white angel, I forgot how to love. Somehow, I never forgot you.
I could never beat you, angel. It took me a while to realize that. You would be ashamed if you saw me now with my head up propped against the steering wheel; My rosary swinging back-and-forth from the impact of my fall; My heart – the one that belongs to you – stopping suddenly; My grip loosening on the last piece to your heart: the puzzle piece. It hit the floor of the vehicle with an inaudible clatter.
I use my last breaths to whisper my final words: "I'm so sorry… Now it's up to you – for both of us. I love you, Near…"
You were the first one I loved then, and you're the only one I love now.
You were always first, my sweet white angel.
So that's it. If you're curious, I wrote this while listening to "Forever and Almost Always" by Kate Voegele and "Starts With Goodbye" by Carrie Underwood. I don't know if I made this obvious enough, but that red puzzle piece Near gave Mello was supposed to be significant and metaphorical. This was intended to be a oneshot, but I'm considering writing Near's point of view. It all depends on the reviews. So, review, please! Also, I'm young, so I may have gotten a few things wrong. Either way, thanks for reading!