Prompt-17-Bully

Prompt-17-Bully

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I've always bullied Near, for as long as I can remember. I go after him every day, harass him, steal his milk money, the whole nine yards.

I'm not your stereotypical thug. In fact, I'd be the smartest kid this side of the English Channel if it weren't for that little albino freak. I'm smart, popular, athletic, pretty, and, oh yeah, blonde. In a high-school yearbook, I'd be "Most Likely to Succeed".

Near was more of a "Most Likely to Successfully Pull off a School Shooting, then Find a Loophole in the Legal System to escape, then Subsequently Become the Next L".

Oh yeah, did I mention? He's a shoo-in for L, after the current one snuffs it.

Which is probably why I hate Near. I'm always second. Second in everything. I'm always one step behind Near. Perfect Near. Genius Near. Sweet, innocent little Near.

I grip my chocolate bar until my knuckles turn white. I shouldn't be surprised when it snaps cleanly in half, but I'm not known for my foresight. I glare at the offending bar, before tearing off the wrapper and biting off a good-sized chunk.

Eating chocolate relaxes me, like a cigarette relaxes a smoker after a stressful day. You could say chocolate is my cigarette. My addiction.

Unfortunately for me (and my chocolate), Near chooses this moment to stroll leisurely into the library, puzzle in hand. I sigh disgustedly. I had come here to be alone, not to hang out with a little scrawny brat. There are better ways I could spend my time.

Though I can't think of any at the moment.

Near surveys the room, apparently searching for someplace to sit. Ignoring me. He doesn't pay me any attention. He never does. He seems to think that by simply pretending I'm not here, somehow I won't be. Stupid Near. He thinks he's so smart.

"Hey, Near," I call.

He glances at me, eyes calm. "Good morning, Mello." He goes back to searching the room for a place to set his puzzle down.

It's infuriating. If you ask me why, I won't be able to tell you. Near rubs me the wrong way, clashes with me. We're two opposite ends of a globe, impossibly different, yet strikingly similar. I can't stand that. I can't stand him.

I grab his shoulders, flinging him into the wall. His puzzle falls to the ground, pieces spilling out all over the floor. He's used to this. It happens every day. He leans against the wall, looking at me sympathetically.

Sympathy? What the hell is that for? He's in no position to give Ime/I sympathy.

I pin his wrists to the wall on either side of his head. "How do you like that?" I hiss through clenched teeth.

Near cringes slightly, and I smile, taking a sort of sick pleasure seeing him squirm, even if only a little.

"…why?" he breathes, as if afraid to speak too loudly, as if we are carrying out an act of utmost intimacy in which words are completely and utterly inappropriate.

"Why? You tell me, Near," I respond maliciously, keeping my voice low.

"I… I don't know what you want, Mello."

I smile. Seeing him falter is beyond my wildest dreams. It pleases me to know that even Near can slip up every once in a while. Perfect, innocent Near.

"What do I want? Nothing. I just love seeing you squirm."

With that, I release him. I don't spare him a second thought as I wander off to find Matt. It can wait until tomorrow. After all, the same thing happens every day, and I can only hope that one day, I will finally break him.