Summary: After another night spent with Mello, Near contemplates his answer to the question: "I hate you. So why do you keep coming back to me?" Mello/Near ficlet.
Warnings: Rated T for heavy sexual implications. I actually considered rating it M, but it's not super graphic or anything, so I figure the rating I gave it is fine. Shonen – ai warning, obviously.
Comments: A fluff story, :3. I had fun writing it. There really aren't enough Mello/Near stories out there, so I thought I'd contribute. Er, this is more… intimate than I'm used, to, if you know what I mean. I'll probably get embarrassed and take it down in a few days… anywho, read and review, please!
~Phyre
Near was lying next to Mello in an all-too-familiar bed. He watched Mello's expression change from satisfied to confused to annoyed all within a matter of seconds.
"I hate you." Mello said the words unapologetically, but without malice. "I've always hated you."
"I know." Near rested his head on Mello's bare shoulder.
"So why do you keep coming back? Am I another one of your toys?"
"…"
Mello didn't wait for an answer. His eyes closed, and Near watched as the blond man's anger-twisted face smoothed into something peaceful. He put his soft thumb against the charred skin next to Mello's eye, tracing the jagged edge of the scar absent - mindedly.
"So why do you keep coming back?"
Near slipped out of bed, and, being careful not to wake Mello up, reached over to untangle his white clothes from Mello's black ones.
"Why?"
When he caught a glance of himself in the bathroom mirror, Near was taken aback. The person in front of him had the same white hair, same wide black eyes, and same childish features, but there was something so completely different about him that he didn't even recognize his own reflection.
He had always thought of himself as stone; immovable, perfect in every single way – inhuman, even. But sometimes, when he was all alone, that inhumanness scared him. It was like he didn't know how to feel, didn't know how to cry, didn't know how to scream, didn't know how to want.
Mello was perfect in another kind of way – he was perfectly flawed. When he was angry - which happened quite a lot with Near was around - his eyes lit up with fire, and his voice tore apart the air. When he was happy, he grinned devilishly, a frightening-yet-intoxicating sight to see.
Most of all, Mello was not afraid to want. Near knew that for a fact.
What Near saw in the mirror that scared him and thrilled him was life.
That was why he kept coming back to the man who hated him. When he felt empty and unreal, it seemed that the only person in the world who could fill him with sadness and smiles and desire was Mello.
A.N.
Well, that was short. Hope you enjoyed. Review, please!
~Phyre