Mello woke up roaringly pissed off, the head doctor's voice over the intercom blending together with the last thing he remembered from the insanity of the night: Matt's snarkiness as Mello had followed him out of the cafeteria. They'd landed in the game room, he thought, but everything after that graded into grey, then black. Except for his anger, which still burned red-hot. Fuck you, Matt, he thought, all the more vehemently for having been cheated out of saying it to the prat's face.
Maybe you've lost your touch - but I sure haven't, the prat had said. The worst part was that he'd intuited something was wrong almost immediately. So will L, next time you see him, Mello thought. Probably, everyone knows. Especially the people who knew the other one.
He needed to do more, was all. That had always quelled that whisper in the back of his mind before, and it would do it now, if he could do enough. It would. He forced himself to sit up, already tired of fighting a battle with his own mind on top of everything else. The opportunities last night had afforded, squandered or not, were past now. No sense dwelling on them. A small light cut through his gloom when he realized that everything he'd managed to collect was still here. Even the gun, thank god. Two bullets were better than none.
A glance at the other bed to see if the insufferable roommate was still asleep, and Mello secured everything under the mattress--and there, right where he never would have expected it, was the pipe he'd upended the mattress in his old room looking for. It would've been funny if it weren't so stupid.
Another day, another round of idiocy from Landel's. The visitors would obviously be fakes of some sort, and as for the suggestions, were they fucking kidding with that? He considered scribbling, Drop the damn act, and let us fight it out with you, and actually chuckled, right as the door opened, and the perky bane of his daytime existence came in.
"It's nice to see you smiling, Michael," she chirped, so of course, Mello immediately scowled. It didn't derail her cheer. "You'll have a lovely brunch later, but right now, you get to choose!" She said this as if he ought to have thought it was Christmas and his birthday rolled into one. He let the frown settle in for the long haul. "Would you like to go to the chapel, or to the sun room?"
"Chapel." Less chance of running into Matt, or, come to think of it, L, there.
Mello hadn't been a believer in a long time. He was still faintly annoyed, a wavelet in the tossing sea of annoyance, by the chapel here, everything watered down to the point of being meaningless. He sat in one of the pews, consciously sprawling, and thumbed idly, discontentedly, through one of the insipid hymnals.
no subject
Maybe you've lost your touch - but I sure haven't, the prat had said. The worst part was that he'd intuited something was wrong almost immediately. So will L, next time you see him, Mello thought. Probably, everyone knows. Especially the people who knew the other one.
He needed to do more, was all. That had always quelled that whisper in the back of his mind before, and it would do it now, if he could do enough. It would. He forced himself to sit up, already tired of fighting a battle with his own mind on top of everything else. The opportunities last night had afforded, squandered or not, were past now. No sense dwelling on them. A small light cut through his gloom when he realized that everything he'd managed to collect was still here. Even the gun, thank god. Two bullets were better than none.
A glance at the other bed to see if the insufferable roommate was still asleep, and Mello secured everything under the mattress--and there, right where he never would have expected it, was the pipe he'd upended the mattress in his old room looking for. It would've been funny if it weren't so stupid.
Another day, another round of idiocy from Landel's. The visitors would obviously be fakes of some sort, and as for the suggestions, were they fucking kidding with that? He considered scribbling, Drop the damn act, and let us fight it out with you, and actually chuckled, right as the door opened, and the perky bane of his daytime existence came in.
"It's nice to see you smiling, Michael," she chirped, so of course, Mello immediately scowled. It didn't derail her cheer. "You'll have a lovely brunch later, but right now, you get to choose!" She said this as if he ought to have thought it was Christmas and his birthday rolled into one. He let the frown settle in for the long haul. "Would you like to go to the chapel, or to the sun room?"
"Chapel." Less chance of running into Matt, or, come to think of it, L, there.
Mello hadn't been a believer in a long time. He was still faintly annoyed, a wavelet in the tossing sea of annoyance, by the chapel here, everything watered down to the point of being meaningless. He sat in one of the pews, consciously sprawling, and thumbed idly, discontentedly, through one of the insipid hymnals.
[for Kagura! <3]