Twirling a pen around his fingers, Mello stared hard at the blank sheet of looseleaf in front of him. He took a deep breath, contemplating the content of what he was about to write, then just deciding to get it over with. Once it was all out and on paper, he'd think about sending it or destroying it. Although he seriously considered the first, he was more sure about the latter.
Near,
I hate you. I really, REALLY hate you. Like a really fucking lot. There's nothing I'd enjoy more than to watch you fail so horribly 'cause it'd be the most hilarious thing I've seen.
Mello took a moment to snigger at that line, and continued smirking as more vehement phrases came to mind.
I spend all of my time obsessing over how to finally beat you and that's basically the only way I spend my time. And that's a problem. But, see, you don't know any of this. You don't know how much I think about you…or how hard I try to earn that extra point or two on the Rankings.
Mello took snapped a piece off of his chocolate bar, noticing the ink stains and rips in the page where he'd pressed too hard on the pen.
I seriously drive myself insane every time those tests come around, and it's all your fault. Why? Because it wouldn't bother me as much if anyone else was Number One, because you act…so, so…indifferent about it! Like you don't care, yet you're given the honor, and all I do care, and I'm not. You don't deserve it. And that really irritates me. You really irritate me.
Mello growled at the thought, feeling his hatred for Near swirling in his veins. He briefly looked over what he'd written before, his brows coming together uneasily.
So why the hell am I writing this? Beats me, kid. You're just on my mind and I sure as hell want you the fuck out of my thoughts. So, goodbye. I hope you die.
From,
Who the fuck do you think?
He sighed, his anger settling as the dread of finishing the letter weighed on him. He knew he wanted to write more, but felt like once he got it down, somehow that conformation would make his feelings final. Rolling his eyes at how sissy that statement sounded and unclenching his fists, he scribbled his most inner thoughts down on paper.
P.S. Matt says that I'm in love with you. For once, I think he's right.
Mello took glanced over what he'd written. Completely repulsed by the vulnerably it presented, he tore it to shreds. But, as Matt noticed from across their shared room, there was no mistaking the pink hue of the blonde's cheeks, or the ghost of a smile that occasionally graced his lips as he wrote that letter. Yeah, Matt thought, he's totally into Near. So deep that there's no more denying it.