Inside Out [Mello x Reader]

4 | Never Too Late

[(y/n)'s POV]

It feels like a fever dream every single time. When I open my eyes, I can barely remember what has happened. Since I had joined the police I have forgotten what it feels like, but now I'm officially back to my old ways. The sound of blood dripping onto my black leather boots is one I am too familiar with. I don't know any other way. The blade in my hand is soaked in burgundy-red blood, just like the person - or rather corpse - lying in front of me.

A cool breeze comes up, moving my (y/hair color) hair strands to the side, so my face splattered with blood is revealed. I lift my head and look up to the pure black sky. It is in the middle of the night, the only thing shining bright being the stars. I'd think this would be a beautiful night, if it wasn't for the emptiness inside of me. I'm surrounded by pure darkness.

This is what I would have thought on a killing spree one and a half year ago. But for some reason, pure darkness doesn't reach me nor do I feel empty inside. Something must be different. Right. I turn around and see a curled up boy with messy, blonde hair motionlessy lying on the ground. He looks exhausted and somewhat incredibly broken.

I put my blade back into its scabbard attached to my belt and walk over to him. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't impressed Mello managed to hit three k.o.'s despite having taken in several blows. I have taken quite a few hits myself and feel myself bleeding somewhere in the face - asides from the blood that isn't mine. I can't be bothered by it right now and shift my gaze over to Mello who's still lying on the ground. Unexpectedly, he's able to move. I thought he was knocked out but he suddenly points his gun at me, faster than my brain can process. I let my guard down. So did he plan to betray me from the start?! My eyes widen as I want to move but my body won't allow me to. He's not possibly going to-

I'm too slow to react and try to defend myself by blocking the view, as if that would prevent a bullet from piercing through my flesh as I hear a deafening gun shot. My heart nearly skips a beat as I shut my eyes tightly and stand there frozen. I wait for some kind of pain to alter my body but I can't feel any bullet hitting me. I slowly open my eyes again to see Mello motionlessy lay in the same position as before. I look down my body but I'm unharmed. Did he miss me? No, he didn't. It occurs to me as I turn around and see one of the men, who I thought were dead, falling to the ground by the attempt to attack me from behind.

I'm having a hard time believing that Mello just protected me and suddenly remind myself that he was kind enough to walk me home earlier. I know that the only reason he saved me is because of our deal, after all he stated that he couldn't stand me (and almost shot me right after). But for some reason, I can't get the conversation we held in the beginning out of my head. It felt like he was being truly honest and his persona seemed nothing like the cocky, ruthless mafia boss that he is now. I kneel before him and quietly say "Hey. You good?". He's breathing shallowly, his face covered in his own blood.

Mello slowly opens his eyes half way but he's too exhausted to say a word so he just keeps looking at me with an annoyed glare which basically told me 'Do I look like I'm good?'
I let out a sigh and mumble "Alright then", then carefully pull his deadweight upwards. As soon as he's sitting, he automatically rests his forehead against my shoulder. His injuries must be worse than I had originally thought, considering he actually hates me. "Shall I bring you to your hideout?", I ask him. After a short pause, he weakly whispers "No". I'm a bit confused as I expected a 'yes' from him. "Where should I bring you then?"

"Anywhere", Mello whispers with his head still resting against my shoulder. I want to ask more questions but given his condition, I hold back and carefully swing his arm around my neck, making sure not to hurt him. "You better put in some effort cause I'm sure as hell not going to carry all of your weight", I say in a sarcastic tone. I can sense a slight growl coming from him but he's too tired to tell me to shut the fuck up, which feels oddly satisfying.