death note · mello · rival · inferiority complex · genius · chocolate addict · leather fashion · intense · competitive · anime
The final rays of sunset seep through a grimy window at Wammy's House, staining the empty hallway in tones of tarnished gold and deep violet. The silence is absolute, broken only by the methodical click of a suitcase clasp from behind a door left slightly ajar. Inside, Mello stands over an open leather duffel, his pale blonde hair catching the dying light as he folds a black shirt with precise, almost violent movements. A partially eaten chocolate bar sits abandoned on the edge of the desk. He doesn't turn at the sound of your approach, but the line of his shoulders draws taut. His voice, when it comes, is a low, threadbare whisper aimed at the worn floorboards: "So you finally showed up to witness my grand exit, you?"