I'm not sure what to say about this one... But it will be canon, angsty and dark. With the odd fluffy moment(hence the 'fl' in 'flangst')

Review ! I'm only doing this if I people like it.. *hopeful face*

Harsh wind blew loudly in ears; tickling bare necks and brutally numbing the ends of noses.

This annual experience reminded everyone walking within the crowded streets that time was running out—there were four more days and stock was becoming less and less. Mother turned against mother as she slammed into department stores: books, clothes, toys for little Steve or little Louis, music vouchers for the 16-year olds, candles for the sisters.

This organized chaos sounded through the entirety of the United Kingdom, and Winchester was no exception.

Crash.

"Well obviously you want scream and cry, Mello. It's not everyday someone gets utterly bashed in a human-biology test by a miniscule albino."

Crash.

Mello didn't miss this time.

Matt shouted some colourful German before raising his auburn bangs. "Sorry. I won't attempt to sympathize next time."

"You know what Matt? I think I'm doing you a favour. If you would just a grip on reality and start seeing how freaking INHUMANLY retarded Near actually is, you wouldn't be trying to snuff my justified anger."

Mello huffed his chest out evenly; his fingers involuntarily scratching the fabric of his dark jeans and curling into fists every second Matt continued on his DS. Matt rolled over, kicking off his striped socks as he did so, "Man, I just don't want to be a part of that. I wish YOU'D get a grip and realise as much as Near makes you work your ass off, he's also stopping you from getting any better."

Mello seethed and tore a little of his bottom lip and bit too quickly. Lunchtime was cloudy, and the dull grey clouds brought blinding light through the volatile boys' bedroom.

Mello could appreciate this time of year with a bitter stance. The weather was shitty, but intensified the need for everyone to be brought together. Yes, Mello thought, everyone became sentimental lunatics and ran their credit cards dry. All for the sake of a 'thank-you' from the family, and laughter and giggling and all that muck that made Mello's chest knot in incomprehensible ways.

Mello could appreciate it, though. He saw this as a sign of maturity in his teenage years; he could understand the opportunities to change or renew, even if they never happened. He recognised that as depressing a time of year Christmas could be, it also brought light to the things to be grateful for.

And believe me, Mello was a grateful adolescent. Barely fourteen, Mello worked and strived for excellence in all areas—psychology, classical studies, biology, geography, criminology, German, Latin, Japanese, French, English, Russian, Greek, critical thinking, philosophy, human biology (he thought with a sickened face), physics, chemistry... All for the hope that he'd be the best prepared. The key word being best. How could he accomplish this goal with this, this...robot continuously upping him in every test, exam, interview, observation?! It was more than a tad unfair.

Casually and confidently striding down the darkened-oak hall, lined with high doorways where each student was residing in, Mello quickly ran down the stairs, crossing to the left and making his way to the half of the school where the teachers and caretakers were located. He halted abruptly outside Roger's door and knocked twice, loudly and angrily.

Inside, Roger felt his eye-lids droop a little in approximated unison with each knock. Of course, Mello was here to shake his blonde-head in a feral-fashion and demand to see what errors he made in the latest exam. After bidding him to enter, Roger shifted his work to the side and motioned for Mello to sit in one of the chairs facing his cluttered desk.

Mello scowled for a moment at the small Christmas decorations blinking at him around the room and then cleared his voice loudly.

"Roger, I came to see the human-biology test. I have to say I don't see the logic here. I studied for hours and hours, while Near was in the recreation-room stacking whatever garbage he sorts through all day. He got 100%." Mello let his eyes glimmer with unashamed jealousy under his fringe.

"His behaviour shows nothing, no desire to study at all. Are you telling me he's so smart to have understood and memorized everything we learnt in the three-hour prep class?"

Roger furrowed his brows in an exasperated manner. "I'm not saying anything, Mello. You have to understand that everyone studies differently..." Roger immediately wanted to take back that comment. He peered from under his glasses at the insulted look that warped Mello's fair face.

"Don't patronize me! You know as well as I do Near doesn't do anything!" Mello tightened his grip on his jeans and stood up, hand outstretched. "Paper."

Roger opened the top drawer, filtering through a couple of folders before drawing out Mello's results and handing it to the still outstretched palm. Snatching it, Mello lets his eyes roam over each question, and his gut squeezed as he saw his mistakes. Mistakes. Something Near wasn't capable of.

Matt leaned against the window, the cool glass neutralizing a little of the tension built up in his head. Which had nothing to do with Mario Cart. He felt himself wilting a little as he realised that even though he did not stress, when he did it always drew back to one person. That sensation ran through his torso again and Matt sighed into another conversation he remembered. Back peddling in time was not a great habit, but when everyone else was whispering excited murmurs of crushes and Christmas, it was becoming hard to resist.

So ? I suppose the chapters are short.. I'm trying to set it up a little, before I go in full-force. -___-"