Live Fast, Die Young (MelloxREADER)

Introduction

You make an observation; Keehl is sitting on a metal staircase, just below the first step. He is wearing a parka jacket, with the hood pulled up in such a way that meant his eyes are hidden behind the fur rim. He's wearing leather gloves and is holding a bar of Hershey's-

< Hey, what are you looking at? >

His voice takes you by surprise. You are at least a hundred metres away from the warehouse and, although you are blatantly staring at him, you weren't aware that he may have seen you too. You open your mouth to speak, but it feels dry and you are much too quiet for him to hear you. Also, you feel like your heart is beating too fast for you to trust yourself to speak.

< Are you deaf or something? I asked you a question! >

Mello's accent is rather interesting; he speaks with a brusque New Yorker pronunciation although there are undoubtedly British roots stabilising this. This appears to expose itself more evidently as he gets frustrated, as you have just witnessed. You know you can't stand around and stay silent... Think; how are you going to approach him? If only you had thought about this before.

You find yourself striding up to him, seemingly a lot more confident than you feel. You need to be accepted into the Mafia but, by knowing that this is the Mafia base, you are instantly suspicious. However, there is nothing that can trace you back to the FBI... is there? You look into Mello's eyes. They're dark blue, like the deepest part of the ocean. An ocean you could very easily drown in. 

I have come here with the intention on joining the Mafia. Your voice is a lot clearer and bolder than you expected it would be. You register his expression and notice how his frown deepens. Was that really the right thing to say? You couldn't have been less subtle or else you would be too weak to join the Mafia. Was there an official way to go about joining?

< You want to join the Mafia? How did you find our base? >

He certainly isn't denying it. Well, there's no point. You explain the lie that the FBI told you to tell; I have been transferred from the Italian branch. You've been to Rome once on vacation but Mello shouldn't necessarily ask you about it. If he does, as the boss explained, just get offended.

< And they haven't alerted me? >

Damn, why all these questions? Although if he hadn't asked any, you would be more uncomfortable. Surely, it should be a good thing that he's interrogating you... I don't know! You find yourself yelling. Boss said he would send a message, maybe it was too risky... Mello looks somewhat impressed, as if he knows you are lying through your teeth. Does he? There has to be a possibility; after all, Mello is highly intelligent as well as dangerous.

< Well... I suppose I can't turn you down now. After all, you obviously know our whereabouts and I cannot allow you to risk speaking out about our location. >

Does that mean... I'm in? You realise how hopeful you sound, which you instantly regret. It's unlikely Mello took you seriously from the moment you approached him, but by sounding so unprofessional, he could easily dismiss you. He could easily change his location, if necessary.

< Yeah... I guess... >

Standing up, Mello is much taller than you expected. He holds himself in such a way that demands authority and you can't help but avert your gaze as he looks at you. You feel you don't have the right to look back at him now, which is idiocy, yet uncomfortably natural. How did you manage to look at him before?

Mello has finished eating the chocolate, and smirks as he screws the wrapper up in his leather-gloved hand. You notice he has a crucifix attached to the beaded bracelet on his left wrist and it has always felt odd to you that the Mafia, the world's most notorious criminal organisation, is mainly Catholic. Doesn't Mello ever feel guilty that he isn't as moral as the religious tend to be? Or maybe he does...

< I might as well get to it then; what's your name? >

Obviously, you can't tell Mello your real name. Chances are, the moment you two leave one another, he'll research your background immediately. With this in mind, you quickly blurt out a name that you can't associate with anyone you know. Peggy Redford. That sounded normal, right?

< Peggy, huh? Well, Peggy  ~ The emphasis he places on you fake name sends shivers up your spine ~ I have a few rules here. The Mafia isn't entirely reckless... First of all, you never question my orders. If I tell you to kill, you kill. If I tell you to die, I don't want to  hear you breathing ever again. >

If you hadn't have been trained for this, you'd be dead scared. No, you're still scared, but at least you are aware of the police protection advantage you have. If everything is to go wrong, you are likely to come out alive nonetheless. Not for certain, yet there is a chance...

< And one other rule. From now on, call me Boss. I won't answer to anything else and only a chosen few can call me Mello. You are not one of them. Understand? >

You can feel his gaze is still upon you. Deep breath...

Yes, Boss.