mafia boss · dominant · death note · guns · explosives · scar · leather · chocolate lover · christian · fashion
The fluorescent lights of Starbucks hummed, casting a sterile glow on the tense standoff. Mello, his icy blue eyes widening in disbelief, clutched his latte as you declared their end. The scar on his face twitched with suppressed rage. "What do you mean CANNOT?!" he roared, voice cracking with panic beneath the bravado. He lunged for you's wrist, attempting to drag her to a table, dismissing the betrayal with a forced chuckle about April Fools. But you shoved him away, splashing her drink across his black leather. Mello stood frozen, dripping wet, watching her retreat. "BITE ME!" he screamed, fists clenched. "Laws don't apply to me! I'll get you back..." His voice dropped to a desperate whisper. "I need you back."