Ever since Near watched Gone With the Wind for his old English and social studies classes, he had one question on his mind.

Throughout the whole movie, it was stuck in his head and kept repeating itself over and over and over again. They said that word so many times, like they were chatting about the weather, but Near was confused.

What was love?

Near had never once in his life experienced love. He had looked it up in the dictionary, asked Roger, watched the scenes that they said that word- love- a few times until he fell asleep, but he could find no rational answer to the question.

Near rubbed his temples. He had heard the word said a couple times by the older orphans at Wammy's, but usually someone ended up getting upset.

Maybe it's an insult?

No, he would have known if it was an insult, because Mello would have used it on him.

Mello had used every insult possible in the human world on Near, but he had never once used that word. Love.

Mello will know what love is. Mello has too many emotions, so he must have had this love, right? Even if he hadn't used it on Near, Mello felt more emotions in a day than Near has had in his life.

And so, Near found himself trudging down the hallway with a shuff, shuff of his socked feet on the carpet, and at Mello's door thereafter. Gently, and almost hesitantly, he rapped his knuckles on the door.

A very large and unpleasant sounding crash erupted from inside the walls, and later heard Mello yelp, "Ow! Crap!" and other muttered profanities.

The door swung open and there stood Mello in all his black and threatening glory, holding his shin with one hand and propping open the door with the other.

"What do you want, Near?!" Mello sounded beyond 'pissed,' as he would say.

In a quiet, innocent and yet still monotonous voice, Near asked, "Mello? What's love?"

Mello stared down at the white haired boy in front of him unbelievingly, like he had just pulled the most obnoxious of faces and yelled, "Just kidding! You're number one!"

"Aah… um… how do I put this…" Mello wondered aloud, rubbing his neck. He then put his hands on Near's shoulders and said, "Near, you are the most emotion deprived, depressing person I've ever met." And then drove Near inside his room. He had no objections. "You completely avoided my question, Mello…" Near pointed out. And which was, actually, Mello's goal. Mello huffed a sigh, leaned against his wooden door, and slid to the soft, carpeted floor. Near sat down beside him. "Aah, since you came over here, I guess I should tell you anyway…" Near noted that Mello was uncharacteristically… well, out of character. "Love is… um…" Mello rambled on like this for several, several minutes, rubbing the sides of his eyes in a circular fashion. Near trailed the way his fingertips ran ever so softly over his pale skin, and that they were long and beautifully thin, almost like a girls, and almost like his. "Ok, Near, are you shooting for… tennis love, or… child love, or like… attachment love, or-" "I am shooting for Gone With the Wind love." Mello stared at him, clearly shocked, but gathered his wits rather quickly. "Alright, Gone With the Wind… that kind of love is…" a slow and exhausted intake of breath, and he continued. "When you feel like you can't live without someone. Like without them, you'd die… and when you see anyone else staring at them, you want to throw them out a window… It's like…" "Like how I love my toys?" there was a confused emotion swirling and bubbling in Near's eyes. "No, that's attachment love. Like how someone may 'love' the sea, but they don't want to marry the sea, right? That's like how Matt loves his games, or how I love my chocolate. And like how you love your toys." "I understand how you marry someone when you 'love' them, and how you can be attached to things, but what does it feel like, Mello?" Mello sent Near a long, hard look, shifting from looking at one of his eyes to another. "It feels like… a swirling, happy feeling in your chest, between your heart and your ribs. And you can't look away from a person, no matter how hard you may try. And sometimes find yourself staring at their lips, or the way their jaw moves when they speak…" Mello paused, and shook his head like he was shaking droplets of water from his honey blond hair. Near stood, and placed a hand on the knob of Mello's door. Mello stood up, and shifted off to Near's side. "Thank you, Mello, I believe I understand now." With a slow creaking, he opened Mello's door and started out of his room. "Near, wait-" a hand caught the edge of his loose, white sleeve. Near turned to looked back at the chocolate lover, head cocked slightly to the side. Near knew what Mello was saying, even without either of them opening their mouths.

Don't go.

As Mello said, he walked back inside his room and shut the door.

Out of nowhere, Mello slammed Near's back against the wall and held, rather gently, onto his shoulders. "Near."

"I love you."

Near blinked once, and then twice. Confusion yet again danced over his features. "Like… chocolate? Or like someone would love a child?" Near asked, using the examples Mello previously gave him.

"No, Near. Like Gone With the Wind love."
Thin, rosy lips landed softly and precisely on Near's pale, innocent ones.

Mello leaned back, staring deeply into Near's stony, grey eyes. Near's lips turned up in, if only the slightest, at the corners.

"Thank you, Mello. Now I understand."

The two boy's lips met again.