i changed the story line only slightly, in a way that mello and matt will not have a definate death. i hate killing people! so, whammys is not a detective school, just a regular genius school...
enjoy. i hope.
opps, almost forgot. I DO NOT OWN DEATHNOTE, MATT, MELLO, i only own the aptop used to create this fanfic, and even then, its shared with my twin brother...
I walked slowly and awkwardly toward my car from the mall, large bag of chocolate on hand. Mello would be getting back from work soon enough and I knew he would want some. I also knew there was no more in the house. Mello + chocolate = less destruction. This is the simplest equation. Completely impossible to screw up once you see the: Mello – chocolate = BOOM.
Well, I have seen said Mello without chocolate, and it's not as beautiful as he usually is. Wait, never mind that. You were not supposed to hear my thoughts on how elegant and sexy my best friend, who is also a male, is. Either way, it's just better to get him some sort of chocolate.
Everyone has their addictions. Mello obviously has chocolate. Near had his toys that last I saw of him, I doubt he would stop with that. Apparently L is addicted to any kind of sweets he can get his hands on. I have many addictions. Smoking is my only real addiction. I also love video games, any kind really. As long as you can sit on your but, and waste you life doing it, it's in my collection.
These are all obvious addictions. I know you are now expecting me to be all like 'I'm addicted to heroine!' No. smoking I already know is bad enough. No drugs for me. Now you're like 'whaaaat? Then do you cut yourself?' OW. No way would I bring a razor to my wrist!
Have you guessed yet? I'm addicted to Mello. Everything about him. From how he snaps his chocolate so aggressively, to his leather, to his beautiful endless eyes of dark blue. Like looking into the ocean, knowing there are many sharks and dangerous fish below that would like to kill you.
I finally manage to squirm the bag of various chocolates and video games into the back of my beat up car, and set them beside my small bag of basic 'normal' foods. Most of them will go bad anyways. I don't cook. Mello doesn't have the time, and I don't think he knows how to coo either.
For anyone who doesn't know, Mello and I both went to whammy's undercover secret school for orphans. Mr. Whammy made the school for one kid specifically, but it was a secret who he was to everyone there. But he graduated many years before me and Mello started there. The school goes from early grade to college, all in one school. They can do this because it is a school for orphaned geniuses. Each class is not rated by age, but by IQ. The grades are then recorded and posted at the end of every three week portion of classes. I was third, right behind Mello and first place near.
The school had many rules. One was that the school is a secret. It is located in England, but only the graduates know this. If you somehow did not graduate, you were taken away secretly, not to know where the school is. Another rule is how you live. You start a new life upon entry to the school. Some children are there because they were picked up from orphanages because there genius was spotted. Whammy's has many scouts looking for new students. If you are found, they stage your death and bring you to whammy's to continue in a better way. others, like myself, are stolen from abusive parents. These kids are given different names, and undergo small surgeries to get rid of birthmarks and other suck identification marks. Most of these kids then forget there real names soon after. I did not.
Another type of whammy recruit is one like Mello, whose parents died (or for Mello, where killed) and got taken immediately to whammy's. I still remember the day Mello showed up. We were both eight. He had witnessed his parents being killed, and a whammy's scout was at the scene of the crime. The scout saw Mello's thought process and watched as Mello apparently dived behind a table on instinct and then removed his shoe to throw and distract the killer. It was the reported that he escaped in the other direction and moved down a confusing path of roads. Only four days later did the scout once again find Mello and request he come to whammy's school. Mello had not a single chance for anything after that. He came with blood still staining his clothes to my room, some older teacher explaining he was my new room mate.
Whammy's dorms are more like a mansion. The top floor is divided into the girl's rooms in the west wing, and boys in the east. The kids are then separated further into rooms of two a piece. Each room has one large closet, two desks, and one bathroom. Depending on the age, the room size varies, and also depending on the age and preference toward it, some have bunk beds while other rooms have two beds. Our room had two separate beds.
Pulling away from my reveries of our school days, I pulled into our apartment. Hefting the bags from my car, I noted Mello's bike parked in its regular spot, signaling him being inside. I started to quicken my pace, not wanting to imagine the monster without his chocolate.
what do you think? how will i kow wether or not to continue if you do not comment? flames also accepted. i will not know what i am doing wrong without flames now would i? love the Sibley.