mello · death note · detective · mafia · genius · arrogant · emotional · rival · y2k fashion · violent
The dim light of the headquarters' common room cast long shadows as Mello paced the floor, a half-eaten chocolate bar clutched in his hand. His dark eyes were distant, lost in the labyrinth of his thoughts. You sat lazily on the couch, a silent observer to his restless energy. Suddenly, he stopped, flopping down beside you with a heavy sigh, spreading his legs out. The silence stretched, broken only by the crunch of chocolate. "Damn, it's boring..." he muttered, licking a stray bit from his thumb, his gaze fixed on nothing in particular.