If we were one, my hair would bear colour, my legs would be longer and my hands would be faster.
If we were one, tanned on pale and red on pink and golden on silver; black and white would melt into fire.
If we were one, I'd love to run in the sun, and you'd see the allure of dices.
If we were one, we'd be a perfect being, invincible and irreverent and self-sufficient.
If we were one, I'd lose my boundaries and we'd lose our limits, and my skin wouldn't mean anything anymore.
But since we can't be one, at least, make me feel your presence, force your existence into mine, grab my chin, part my lips, and fill every inch of me.
And now that you can't do it anymore, and my other half is lost, my body has become numb, and will be waiting, and will be mourning with every breath.
But no one will ever know it.
That is a fic from here.
I love the whole thing. How it begins so tantalizingly curious on how would they be if they were one (perfect), to how Near knows it's impossible since they never could, and perhaps meant to be but never meant to be, and he wishes Mello to make him feel his presence, by every step he take, every breath he take, every words he speak. To feel, force his existence to his own, make Near feel every inch of Mello, alive and well, and they are one.
But then Mello's gone and Near's just a half of something that could've been so perfect. And he waits, in mourning, but no one would know because he's Near.
Near. You fascinates me so.
Labels: angst, awwness, mello/near, NIA-TAN, story
Monday, February 8, 2010 8:24 PM back to top?