The gates are opening for us.
Can you hear them?
It's a chance, one we couldn't even dream of before.
..Before we set each other free.
The redhead shakes his head slowly, a smile gracing his lips as he looks at the other male, one thing impossible to go unnoticed in his eyes.
Happiness.
Thinking back at how the day started, being there, then, seems overly surreal.
It took a long series of accidents to get them where they were at that very moment. If you looked closely, you'd see that they were wearing the same expression, glancing at each other, then away, grins showing on their faces.
No, Mello did not want to spend the night working.
He did not want to sit on his desk, reading a bunch of files about people he didn't give a fuck about. He came to France for the sole purpose of solving the bloody case but he just didn't fucking feel like reading, checking, making sure his work was flawless.
It always was.
He was supposed to fly there on Thursday, solve the case in an estimated period of time of one week, then come back to rub his victory in Near's face. As if the albino male would show any reaction to it, but it didn't matter.
Minor details.
What counted was that succeeding made Mello fucking happy.
He didn't want to sit in his hotel room, on the last day of his stay there. He didn't even get to see the beauty of 'the city of lights'. He went from police station to the other, from one person related to the case to another.
This didn't happen often, actually, it didn't happen at all. The blond took his work too seriously to just break one of the rules he had made for himself.
Always double check.
But he didn't care. Maybe the place's difference from his workplace in England, finally got to his head, made him go slightly insane as to carelessly look away from an important step in solving the case. Point is, he wasn't going to do it, and it was unusual.
He slid the card key of the hotel room into his pocket after he walked out, slamming the door shut then walking away.
It took him about an hour to find a decent bar, not too noisy, not awfully quiet, and not crowded with drag queens trying to flirt, or even worse.
Females.
He sneered as the man sitting next to him sent a wide grin his way. "Better close that month of yours, the dominance of the color yellow in your teeth is positively nauseating." He said harshly, lifting his glass to his lips and gulping down its contents. He didn't need to turn his head and look at the other man again to see that he was angered by his comment, but he didn't find the will to care anyway.
He stayed there for about an hour and a half more before he noticed the people around him were purposely avoiding the seats next to him, probably not wanting to be victims of Mello's snarky comments. The bartender didn't seem to have a big problem with it; he smirked at him, shaking his head knowingly before serving him another glass.
"Tu trouveras ce que tu refuse de chercher, et quand cela arrivera, tu ne seras pas capable d'y laisser aller. " (You will find what you refuse to seek. And when that happens, you won't be able to let it go.) The middle aged bartender told him, placing an abnormally big ice cube on the counter in front of the blond and turning to serve other clients. Mello stared at his back for a moment before snorting, He'll "find what he refuses to seek?" He mentally mimicked the bartender, not even bothering to think about the other part of the sentence. He took the ice cube between his index finger and thumb, it was about 8*8 centimeters; he eyed it curiously before placing it back down. Due to the already wet spot on the counter, the transparent cube slipped off the smooth surface and onto the ground, breaking into little pieces. Mello shrugged, turning away from the small mess and downing his drink.
Just as he was about to put his glass down, he felt a strong hand grip the back of his jacket then pull down quite forcefully until the fabric nearly got torn, and Mello almost fell off the stool. "The fuck?" He turned to glare at whoever dared touch him but found no one standing behind him.
All his eyes caught was a redhead, gently rubbing the back of his head as he lay on the floor, his eyes unfocused, as he stayed there, on the now melting patches of ice, he was muttering to himself, something about someone wanting to kill him, asking himself non-sensual questions like why he left 'princess peach' at home, she would have saved him from bad luck or any curses cast by a passing wizard. The stranger quietly told himself his dear princess peach could even save him from a time traveler with the power to change his life course.
Mello blinked as he watched the redhead slowly go quiet then start to actually look around, he must have hit his head really badly to look thatlost. The blond looked around as well, wondering why no one in that damn bar even noticed that a man was possibly injured was lying on the floor, talking to himself, again.
Mello turned back around to face the counter, asking for glass of water before taking it and turning back around.
"Where am—" The redhead started to say, but it was too late, Mello had already splashed the content of the glass in his face. Trying not to wince at the outcome of his actions, Mello looked away from the now flushed redhead, probably with anger, and cleared his throat. "Earth, Europe; France, Paris." He answered, finally managing to look back down at the redhead after he got his facial expressions under check.
The redhead looked up to finally meet Mello's eyes before he said, his face horrifyingly serious. "Mommy?"
Mello's face paled as he heard that, perhaps the injury was more serious than he'd expected.
"No, I'm not your mommy." He muttered, turning back around on the stool to look at the bartender. "Do you have a phone? We might need to call an ambulance for this one."
"Non, désolé." The man said, smirking. Not only did the fucker insist on speaking French despite it being obvious that he could speak English, but he lied as well. Mello could see the bartender's cell phone in his pocket, a part of it poking out. The blond rolled his eyes and threw a few bills on the counter before hopping off his stool and looking at the redhead that was now sitting on the floor, as Mello took a better look at him, he couldn't believe that he'd missed the orange goggles covering the stranger's eyes. He offered him a leather gloved hand, and helped him get up slowly, in fear of hurting him even more.
"Look, I'm just gonna take you to the hospita—"
"Mommy?"
"No, I'm not your mom, like I was saying, I'm just gonna take you to the hospital—"
"Mommy?" The redhead repeated, oblivious to Mello's rising irritation.
"No, I'm not your fucking mommy, listen you prat, I'm just go—"
"Don't call me that, Mommy." The redhead said, and as Mello's patience snapped, he was grabbed by the front of his shirt. The blond's eyes narrowed, his eyes trailing over the entirety of the stranger's face, analyzing. It was then that he noticed pink dry lips twitching, the owner having a hard time to hold back his grin. Mello's lips thinned before he sneered, slowly letting go of the redhead's shirt and pulling his arm back then forward, instantly feeling better as his fist collided with the redhead's jaw, he smirked, lowering his hand by his side, fully expecting the redhead to feel angry, ashamed, something along those lines.
What he didn't expect however, was for the redhead to rub his jaw, and flash him a grin, Mello's smirk fell as he heard the stranger's words. "Abusive parent, you are."
Mello sneered at him before turning around and stomping away, his fists clenched by his sides.
He could hear footsteps behind him, the sound of a lighter, then a contented sigh soon following. He resisted the urge to walk faster, telling himself that Mello most definitely did not scurry away from annoying redheads with a positively sick sense of humor.
"So do you usually run away after almost breaking someone's jaw for no particular reason?" A voice —he absently noted the American accent- called from a few feet away. He clenched his jaw and shoved his gloved hands into the pockets of his jacket as he willed his feet to stop moving. He didn't bother to turn around, the fingers of his right hand curling securely around a chocolate bar he had, almost as if that object was going to keep him calm.
"Are you usually an annoying prick when someone is trying to help you?" He snapped back, trying to keep his voice controlled.
"I do my best." Was the careless reply, another loud clacking of boots against the pavement indicated that the stranger had walked closer to him, a soft exhale of smoke close to his side and a silent moment later, the stranger added. "My jaw hurts."
An odd smile curled at Mello's lips, his eyes shifted to look at the other male as he replied. "Good."
New fanction!
Even though I didn't finish any of the others.
But I like this one.
Review?