January 20, 2013
Mello told me to write this. I'm not sure why. So I asked him and he said 'Because we need memoirs when we die.' I told him it was an 'if we died'. I got hit. I also asked him what I was supposed to write. He thought a bit and then told me to write on this prompt; 'what is love to you'. Kinda odd for Mello, I know. He said he wouldn't read it though and I trust him.
To me… Mello is love. He'd shoot me if I said that, but it's true.
Because what else do I have? A pack of cigarettes? Video games? You can't love that. Mello has given me everything I asked for and more. He's given me blood, murder, death, tears, heartbreak, the truth, ignorance, soft touches, compassion, understanding, a choice to do what I want, mistakes, and love. What more do I want?
He says I have an entire world I can own. I say that my entire world is him and I do own it. He says that I'm a stupid genius that could have beaten him if I tried. I said that had never even crossed my mind and I couldn't even if I wanted to. He said he could do so much better. I said there isn't anything better than being with him. He said I didn't deserve the bruises or the scorn he gives me. I said neither does he.
He said all I ever want from him is sex. I said that wasn't true. He asked why. And I quote; 'Yeah, the sex is great. I'm nineteen fucking years old, Mells. And you, Mello, in all your tight leather, blond hair, blue eyes, soft skin glory, are mine. But I love what you can do to me. I love you, babe.'
He got drunk that night and left. I wasn't too worried about him. Even drunk he could kick some serious ass. I knew he would return because without each other we weren't sane. It was nearing 3 AM before he stepped through the door. He could barely see straight much less walk. I picked him up and he promptly puked. He sobbed and said it was his fault we were going to die. I said it was an if. He passed out after that and I was forced to clean the vomit.
He woke up this morning with a pounding headache and told me he loved me. I think that covered the whole 'puking on us both and passing out so Matt could clean it' deal. I said I loved him too. He scoffed and got ready.
We are going to die soon. That's a fact, but it's much easier to believe we aren't. Much easier to disagree with my blond than to agree and have to face the gallows. There was a noose around both of our necks. With every day break it cinched tighter. I couldn't breathe without Mello near me. I couldn't think until I felt his arms around me and heard soft coos. We would die together.
I was okay with that.
I wanted to ask what love was for him, but I knew he wouldn't have told me. It was too personal and Mello would rather die than to admit something so sappy. I, on the other hand, am fine with it.
I love Mello. I love him more than life itself. He is my sanity. My world. My everything.
I think he knows-- He's fine with it.
Dedicated to my Mello again. x3; Reviews are loved. ^^; Also, thinking about making a 50 song ficlet. Opinions?
Oh, and they also die in six days. ;__;