at Snuffles' house. Once I get back to home-sweet-home (or whatever you want to call it), I'll write you a nice long descriptive (...why did I almost type essay?) entry about what I did here, but for now... you get a fanfiction! 61 poilers because I wanted to write !angsty Near, and there are very few situations in which that would even be possible.
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"It's raining," Near told Mello as he watched him stuff clothes into a [dangitIlack7][grr].
Mello shot him a look of withering disgust, but didn't reply. To his silence, Near said, "You know, there's no point in you leaving right away. There's no sense to it."
"I'm not staying around you for another second!"
Hatred shot out of Mello's words like daggers, grazing Near's chest. He was furious, and Near didn't blame him.
If you can't solve the puzzle, if you can't win the game, you're just a loser. [check order. Again, I lack 7.]
Of course Mello would hate him for those words. Wasn't that the point? Hadn't he been trying to shock Mello into silence anyway?
"You don't understand, Mello," Near said softly.
If someone was bound to stumble, it would not be Near.
"No, I don't understand you," Mello shot back heatedly. "I will never forgive you for saying that about L. You! When you're always obsessing over him. Guess he doesn't matter to you if he's just a loser, then?"
"You don't understand," Near repeated.
If one of them had to be disoriented, Near would make sure it was not him. It was selfish and it was cruel, but to Near Mello's loss of composure was a small price to pay to keep his own.
To the ground, Near confessed, "I couldn't have taken your shouting much longer."
He didn't look up to see Mello's reaction , but he thought he heard an intake of breath, slightly louder than normal, punctuate the still air. When Mello spoke again, his tone had changed, from furious hatred to scornful contempt.
"Get out of my room, Near," he commanded.
Obediently, Near turned away.
"Good-bye, Mello."
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