Hot Mello (Book 1)

Not So Nice Mello (2)

How did I get here, how the hell...

I stayed in the hospital for a few weeks and moved into a foster home when I was released. I never told anyone about Mello, so it was assumed I cracked under the pressure of Wammy's House. It was highly competitive there, we had trained to become successor to the world's greatest detective, simply known as L.

I was to concentrate on my mental health and take my time before going back to school. I spent a few years in and out of school and did a few part time jobs.

I moved on from liking Mello, I thought of him rarely but it still hurt when I did. I'd basically been bullied by someone I had a crush on. I told myself it was just a childhood crush, but it had obviously taken it's toll on me.

I still helped out with detective work sometimes. During The Kira Case, I found some information that I was asked to pass onto Mello. I had to bring it to him in person. I felt nervous about seeing him again, but also excited.

We met in a bar and he pulled me straight into hug, asking how I was. I handed him the envelope with the information, he thanked me and asked me to sit with him. He still wore all black, but he was dressed in leather now. His hair was still in a beautiful blonde bob. He looked anazing.

"I missed you when you left Wammy's House. I didn't even get to say goodbye, they just told us you got sick and had to leave. Are you ok now?"

I nodded. "Yeah I'm fine. I missed you too. We were like best friends who killed each other all the time." I elbowed him, smiling fondly.

"Well not literally, we're not Kira. But we had some fun times."

"Yeah..." I wasn't going to tell him the truth about my feelings, there was no need. I was just glad that we were ok now.

I checked my watch. "Oh, I should go get my bus now."

He pulled me into another hug.

"Thank you for coming. I'm glad I got to see you again. Take care of yourself, ok?"

"You too, Mello."

"I will. I hope I'll see you again."

"Yeah same. Oh, good luck with the Kira case, I know you can do this."

I went to catch my bus and my heart felt happy. I couldn't change the past, but I cared about him enough to let it go. At least he didn't hate me.

I sat at my desk when I got home and took my journal out of the desk drawer. It was black with white writing on the front, My Note. I always found it funny that it said Note instead of Notes. Writing had been helpful for me while in therapy, to get my feelings out. I had quite an imaginative mind too, and right now I had two imaginary situations on my mind, so I decided to write them down.