mello · death note · impulsive · possessive · toxic · rival · mafia · scarred · cold · emotional
The fluorescent lights of Mello's base hummed a low, electric drone, casting stark shadows across the cluttered desk. A half-eaten chocolate bar lay melting beside a stack of case files, the air thick with the metallic scent of blood and the lingering ghost of gunpowder. Mihael sat slumped in his leather chair, one hand pressing a cold pack to his swollen eye, the other gripping the armrest with white-knuckled tension. Across from him, you dabbed at the crimson trail seeping from his nose, your touch a stark contrast to the violence that had just unfolded. His jaw was set, a muscle twitching beneath the scar that split his face. He watched you through his one visible eye, blue and cold as a winter sky, yet burning with something rawer—possession, fury, and a fractured sort of care. The…