I don't know the exact reason today is any different than the previous days.
It could be because it's the first day of winter; the first day of waking up shivering underneath thin sheets with cold feet.
Or perhaps it's the fact that Mello is here, in my room, with me pinned down and his hot breath causing all the microscopic hairs stand upright along my neck. Maybe it's how he is on top of me, with his glistening cerulean eyes gazing at me rather not dreadfully nor threatening, but passionate and I dare not say lust-filled.
Well, how?
There was a knock on the door and I thought it's just one of those orphans Roger calls to get me to eat breakfast, for I usually skip it, and before I even had the time to speak he already found his way within an uncomfortable vicinity with a deathly glare. His fists clenched and I assumed the results are out, and of course I was never wrong.
But I guess I was in some part of it, especially when that's not entirely his problem.
My eyes are wide, which doesn't happen often, and I remained unmoved. For one I knew the blond is definitely a million times stronger than my pathetic and non-existent force and another is because I'm confused, and still thinking of options and ways to escape this situation, if there is even any.
"Near."
Here we go again.
"Mello."
How we say each other's names and everything will just end there. And I hope the outcome will be the same right now, because my predictions run dull when it comes to things relating to anything physical and emotional.
"I don't even know why I'm trying." He whispered.
"Why have you ever thought of doing all of this in the first place?"
"Because I know I'm better than your fucking albino head."
Sometimes I agree with that sentiment. Is he indeed better than me? I think the whole universe will say he is, but then he ignores that fact and stoops down into basing himself with numbers written at the left corner of mere papers. It's a very shallow way of thinking and I guess that inferiority complex itself is what makes him a rank below me. Like I said emotions will be constant weights and it will keep you from passing beyond your capabilities and why can't he accept that?
At the same time I go back from the start and believe he's better because he understand raw nature itself when I can only come into terms with its logical elements.
"Then that's how it is. Let me go."
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because I know I can. I can fucking pin you down whenever I want, kick you, hurt you, punch you and that's how it is! But shit- why?!"
"...Mello?"
My world blackened out and all I could feel is the roughness of his lips. It moved fast and violent on mine while I didn't respond to any of it. He bit the bottom of my lip, pulled it, growled and it bled. I realized where the overwhelming smell of leather came from and it was his gloved hand covering my eyes shut, as if he didn't want the sight of them staying open emotionless because in fact, they are.
It hurt, even if I was used to it. It hurt that I forgot Mello was kissing me.
Mello, the walking fire God, kissing me, the robotic Near.
"I hate you."
"I know."
"I hate that you're perfect."
"I'm not."
"I hate it that I see you flawless. Perfect. It fucking breaks me because I know what it means."
I don't.
That day went on with the same flow except for that morning and night. That evening I didn't sleep. I was used to keeping my eyes open until the first sun ray reaches it, but what bothered me is the false reason behind it.
Mello kept me up all night.
That's a first. I've never paid attention to him unless he begs for it - through every bloody way possible. I could swear that I never noticed how he smirks when he gets something right first, or how he tilts his head when finds an interesting movie come to an end, or how his cerulean eyes dilate just with the sight of his addiction or - I never thought about it.
I rolled to my side as I glanced over the clock. 3:52 a.m. Not the latest but it could be worse later if I don't even start trying to lull myself into slumber.
I'm used to the cold. But then my lips weren't their usual chilly and dried state. Both of them were hot and numb, and I will never figure out the reason behind it. I must admit, thought at the same time I will never do so - that the sensation felt relaxing and good.
I sat down in class, on a seat at the very corner back of the room, and stared blankly at the window. No one pays mind, or even spares a 'hello' because they know I'll never respond. I don't think they are even aware of my presence.
And that's how I like it. The less contact I have with people the stronger my foothold on being an outsider. The outsider watches everything unfold before him without getting involved and being the irrelevant character in the story makes you see the things the main characters are too blind to notice. I may seem to underestimate myself but everyone is simply not good enough to understand the benefits of being constantly invisible.
The noise suddenly vanished and my eyes trailed over the the blond. As usual, with all his glory, he walked in like a God. Everyone saw him as a God. Let's not forget the royal henchman, the third of Whammy's, long-term smoker and technology genius, Matt. Mello's only best friend, the one and only person Mello looks straight into the eye.
Unknown to everyone I wished he'll do the same to me. He did - yesterday.
A small crowd gathered around him and I turned even before we made eye contact. Then again my thoughts prevailed, how Matt is practically the luckiest person in this orphanage, having Mello by his side 24/7.
It's not like I envy his position but rather, considering the fact how all orphans fawn over the fiery boy and kiss his feet anytime, he is fortunate in the eyes of the universe. I may be the first in some thin piece of paper on the wall but that doesn't define the reality that's going on.
"Looking disgusting as ever, twat. Not like you can do anything about it." A familiar, intimidating voice said. Mello chuckled. I'm used to the remarks alright. Now that I think about it, more bruised nights and nightmares may come. First is he might feel all the right of hurting me because of what had occurred, and second I might have clicked a switch and made him more furious than ever. All I can do is cuddle myself or pitifully crawl back to the nurse's office and, that's just a never ending cycle I suppose.
They laughed. Laughed like it's the funniest thing ever to see him say all those despicable things to me. I'm not hurt - that's completely not the case. I just feel angry of them, how they gained the right to be in this very classroom, in this very orphanage, as ignorant as they are.
I could feel the burning stare from a pair of blue eyes which I refused to acknowledge. He made his way near my seat - where he actually sat, much to my disbelief - and brought the shallow crowd with him. Most of them are girls, and I already know why, since he's been blessed with decent looks as well. He's got a 'bad boy' aura everyone gets intoxicated about, and there's Patricia who's the bravest and actually clings to him. He gives her glares but never pushed her away, since he's got his morals as man nevertheless.
There were buff teens, some even taller and stronger than Mello but they worship him like a King. They are all servants, except for Matt who is his dog, and I don't mean any offense but that's how he is.
I kept my eyes averted from the scene. It gets to my nerves though, since they all ask those stupid questions and I could feel my mind sighing for the millionth time. The snow fell with melancholy and it can't get any better.
"Oi, are you actually mute? You never talk."
"You look so freaky! Do you dye your hair white or you're just really the son of a devil?" A hand grabbed me by the collar but my expression remained uninterested. In fact I could feel fear building up but will I let them see such weakness?
The crowd gradually came to me, cornering me like I was a mere prey. They laughed hysterically as they tried poking my cheeks, a few girls annoyingly touching my hair and, they are touching my hair.
I jerked away from their prying hands and I involuntarily cringed. "Don't touch me."
"WOOO finally mustered up to courage to fight aye? Bet you can't even lift a single flower! We can do anything we want with you, you little shi-
Strangely, the burning gaze from the blond left me and I lifted my head.
There was a flying sound and I couldn't quite register what happened but the boy who's been calling me names already has his left hand on his purple cheek with a shocked face. All of them stared, and I did the same. The perpetual silence was caught off by a raspy and frighteningly dreadful voice.
"Know your fucking place, and I hope this is a lesson for every single shithead of you all: Near is my property, I can do whatever I want with him because he deserves it for what he's done to me. I'm the only one who's got that right and neither you, or her have any reason to touch even a strand of his hair. Fuck off and I'm giving you bitches three seconds to run."
He was serious and the couple few who were left received killing kicks from Mello by their testicles. All of them ran except for Matt who already has his attention on us instead of his gaming appliance, an 'o' shaped mouth along with an amused expression. Mello turned his heels directly to me and our eyes met. They look calmer now and I had questions rolling over my face. He never defended me, and what's more scandalous is the fact he shouted enough for everyone to hear that he claimed me as some property of his.
"Mello! Near! Office now!" A female voice called out. Mrs. Higgins stood by the door with her arms crossed, a couple of the battered students behind her. They shrugged in fear but then it appears that she was there when the rendezvous happened and we failed to notice. Mello huffed and ran his fingers through the smooth, gold locks and stomped to the door. I mentally hit myself and dragged myself behind Mello, also with the redhead with his eyes stuck on his game console as we scurried to that old man's office for the umpteenth time.
"What did you do this time?"
"Not my fault."
"That sounds like something a kid will say when he's done something against the rules."
"Why is it always me that does something? I fucking did something alright, but I didn't start that something."
"Language!"
"Whatever. No connection."
I sat across from Mello who lazily slumped himself on the wooden seat. Roger sighed and fixed his glasses as if to contemplate. I don't know how I was called as well; this should be between those six students and Mello himself. Though Roger always assumes everything is about me when it comes to Mello's outbursts, well it's partly true.
Roger faced me and licked his lips, "Where is it?"
"I don't have any." He perked up at the statement and knitted his brows. He tried again, "This has happened so many times and lying doesn't change anything."
"It's quite shallow of you to think every movement Mello allows is all about me being the center of it. I am not involved with any of this, as far as you're concerned." It is true. Roger doesn't have to know the cause, or every detail and sentence Mello spilled. Physically, I am not part of the problem.
Roger studied me for a moment and nodded. There were no signs of pretending or pain so what else can he say?
"What happened to the lot back there though?"
"They were annoying."
"How?"
"You never told me you were a part-time psychiatrist. If that's all can we leave? This is getting pointless." Mello glanced at me blankly. The elder man sighed again and knocked the table for final thoughts while Mello stood to leave.
"That would be great. One week detention, Mello."
"When the fuck did detention ever exist in this place?"
"Right now. You made it." Mello laughed and slammed the door open, almost banging it close to my face as well. We were met by the gamer, who always waited on the same position leaning against the wall even for hours during times we had an actual argument with the elders, and he waved a gloved hand at Mello and the blond followed suit. I was still looking at the ground until their backs are all in sight, with Matt slumping his arm on Mello's back laughing.
I never heard him laugh around anyone else nor truly socialize like how Mello does. He will always be there but he's not the type to initiate conversations. Most of the time people come up to him and he just replies with simple and short greetings and smiles. I suppose that's how he's on the good side of everyone even without literally bonding with them.
He's charming even if he's a complete shut-off nerd, almost similar to myself, and the only difference is that I'm Near.
Robotic, monotone, heartless, all just figuratively black and white.
I witnessed them walk away and when I myself was about to do the same, Mello looked back, an unreadable expression on his face and I'm quite sure I had one plastered on my features as well. Sadness? No. Sympathy? Who knows.
It's not my job to figure out things like that; that will always be Mello's task.
I entered my white room, and I honestly felt clean again. White walls, very minimal furniture, a white bed, and a really dull gray flooring. It's neat, perfect and organized. Sometimes too neat that I'd miss the speck of black filth.
Or maybe Mello.
He contrasts with all I am.
I placed myself in the middle of the whole space and surrounded myself with toys: trains, robots, cities, loose lego parts and puzzles. They are all different but they coexist perfectly; maneuvered by me. They build a whole new different nation, side by side, they builds great walls. I filled in every tiny gap until I formed a whole circle around me. There were people in them, and I felt like they could protect me. Not a single loophole and that's what makes it formidable.
I brought both my knees up to my chin and stayed like that. Yes, this is genuine peace.
These little toy soldiers are standing there and everything is alright.
It's alright.
Until a shrieking bang resounded in the empty room, and he was standing there.
He clicked the lock and I knew I couldn't run away.
He knows my secrets. He knows how these mere plastic figurines make me feel safe; And he's going to destroy them just because of that.
"Near."
He walked to me, observing my defensive position and the circle of broken old toys. Of course, he will put a gap between them, maybe throw a punch or two across my pale face just to make himself feel much better. After every time we get called, he gets insecure. The more his mind tells him the mistakes he's done and he would need an outlet. So much feelings are always bottled up in his lithe body that he explodes regularly. Although he would snap at Matt, he would never hurt him.
Not when he loves him.
This is just one of those days, isn't? Quite ironic because I will be literally be left out in the cold, since it's the cold season and my freezing body always make matters worse. But then why is he taking off his boots? He removed his leather jacket as well, padding forward to my haven as he slouched down. He touched one of the soldiers, but didn't move them any further. I didn't look at him because I'm certain I don't want to see anything more than the reasonable explanation behind all this.
Carefully, sneakily - he stood, lifted his right leg and stepped into the circle. He tip-toed until he sat down on the place right beside me. We were so close I felt his heat rise up the electricity in my body; and we exchanged them. I gazed at him into the windows of his soul, and they were nothing but compassionate.
Mello, the entity I've been shielding myself from, is now inside my only solace in the world.
"I'm sorry." He whispered.
I shivered when his hot breath hit my face, and I averted my obsidian pupils when I noticed the remorse slowly taking over his straight features.
"Why would Mello be sorry?"
I wanted to remain unmoved and numb. However, he grabbed my palm and pulled them close to his lips, and he proceeded to kiss every finger, every knuckle. I tensed, my eyes completely wide with shock for the first time, and my heart raced at the gesture. It was so overwhelmingly warm and gentle that I flinched, and attempted to pull my slender hand away. He gave me a serious look, one that says not to even try, and this time he gripped my whole entirety towards him until I flopped on top of him. He stroked my face, and without a second thought, he took my second kiss.
This time, it was lighter, less passionate and brief. Though, it said so many things.
Like stay, or please understand.
How come I've read them so perfectly?
"...why?"
"I can't help it." Mello then wrapped his hands around my waist and snuggled against my neck. A sigh of contentment came past his lips, and oddly everything felt right. As if it's some long lost matching puzzle piece, as overly romantic as it sounds.
"But Just behind closed doors."
"I hate you."
There's an alarming danger welcoming me but nonetheless, I knew it will never hurt so much. It will just between Mello and I, after all.
"Just behind closed doors." I repeated, assuring him.
He's the fear that lingers under my bed and the scent of my own blood.
Mello is my opposite. He's mine that way.
And sometimes he loses himself when monsters devour his mind.
He cuddled me close and I allowed him to believe whatever he wanted regarding this situation. During these times I remain quiet, and surprisingly hold myself from reminding him of the reality which will always be our endless difference and competition. He never once touched me so intimately, but whenever he breaks down I seem to the most significant thing in his universe. It lasts a week or two until we return back to our habitual routine of copiuos rivalry. We both pretend that nothing happened and we sticked into that lie so much it has turned into truth. Though, I find no fault of Mello needing a breather and it happens to be me contributing to that.
"I hate you." He whispers breathily into my ear.
"I know."
Just like a child, he crawls to me and I embrace him. I inwardly sighed, knowing I would be doing this for days, and to add up the burden we'll have to this unbeknownst to everyone. I almost laughed at the the thought of him taking advantage of me. I'm like his personal punching bag, at the same time I act as a comfortable bed to sleep in. It's irrational but then that's Mello. Irrational is Mello.
"You're warm." He says. I don't know how he can spill such innocence and say how much of failure I am in just one day.
Today is one of those days. When Mello crashes down and forgets everything. After he'll just stand up again, filled with energy and forget then again. Still, why is this day any different?
"Why can't Matt be the one right here...right now...?" Silent, heavy droplets of water touched my skin. Matt did it again - cheated - after all. He does it so many times I'm used to it, and I don't even have the will to confront him about it. Mello is too yet he comes to me crying all the time. He says his Mattie will never hurt him.
It's foolish. Foolish is Mello.
a/n MUST READ
this story is going to be depressing! cheating and everything! all confused with first love and that kind of crap :) Though, if you like angst with happy ending then here you go :) the characters will be confusing, and Mello and Near's relationship will be really really complicated. Mello is messed up but Near is actually trying to help Mello by doing what he wants. Though, what if Mello takes it too far, and Near will start wanting just a little bit more? But then again Near is just a comforter, an anger outlet, and far from being a lover. Will these two ever come into terms with their feelings? MELLOXNEAR WITH SIDE MATTXMELLO BUT IM TELLING YOU ITS MELLOXNEAR