Stop. Pause. Rewind. Hey-- that was cheating, wasn't it? Interception wasn't part of the plan, wasn't how this challenge was supposed to work - this was a game of give and take, not a game of steal-the-fucking-cigarette-right-out-of-your-partner's-mouth. Cheating? Oh yes, definitely. And here he'd been concerned over Matt's wellbeing, even kindly asked if Matt was in need of another round of dope that would banish the pain he was surely in, and what was he repaid with? A cloud of cherry scented smoke that almost made his eyes water. Haha. (Though, he supposed, it was the very least he deserved, after taunting Matt like that.)
Mello scowled deeply, eyes narrowed to gleaming slits, and raised a blackgloved hand to reclaim what was rightfully his (what the Hell could Matt do to stop him from taking back the cigarette, anyway?), but he faltered, immediately drawing his arm back. (Because for every toxin that was taken away, there was another waiting in line just behind it, ready to cause just as much damage as the first.)
"Tch. Fine, keep it you bastard--" He stepped away from the couch, squaring his shoulders, bringing himself to his full height like nothing was wrong, like he couldn't feel those pinprick shards of ice digging a rut into his chest and were freezing his heart bit by bit. "--you're lucky that you're an invalid, eh? Otherwise I wouldn't wait to beat the crap out of you." Did the words sound forced? Maybe, but that wasn't Mello's main concern, making a clean escape before he puked up his guts onto the floor, was. Because this feeling of searing ice, the spasm of pectoral muscles, was nothing new, had occurred three times before without a moment's warning - Mello could do nothing to stop it, and knew all too well what happened afterward.
"You're still not getting out of that fresh dose of painkillers, partner. I'm going to go get it--" And Mello turned his back, because he could no longer face forward, couldn't show Matt that hey, we really make quite the pair, we've both been rendered completely useless by toxins and tar, and looked to Near, eyes interlocking for the briefest of moments. (Near saw everything, he always did, Mello had to remember that, take advantage of it when he could--)
"Make him comfortable, will you?" Distract him from this secret of ours, alright? Keep him ignorant.
And Mello walked away, locking himself behind closed doors.
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Mello scowled deeply, eyes narrowed to gleaming slits, and raised a blackgloved hand to reclaim what was rightfully his (what the Hell could Matt do to stop him from taking back the cigarette, anyway?), but he faltered, immediately drawing his arm back. (Because for every toxin that was taken away, there was another waiting in line just behind it, ready to cause just as much damage as the first.)
"Tch. Fine, keep it you bastard--" He stepped away from the couch, squaring his shoulders, bringing himself to his full height like nothing was wrong, like he couldn't feel those pinprick shards of ice digging a rut into his chest and were freezing his heart bit by bit. "--you're lucky that you're an invalid, eh? Otherwise I wouldn't wait to beat the crap out of you." Did the words sound forced? Maybe, but that wasn't Mello's main concern, making a clean escape before he puked up his guts onto the floor, was. Because this feeling of searing ice, the spasm of pectoral muscles, was nothing new, had occurred three times before without a moment's warning - Mello could do nothing to stop it, and knew all too well what happened afterward.
"You're still not getting out of that fresh dose of painkillers, partner. I'm going to go get it--" And Mello turned his back, because he could no longer face forward, couldn't show Matt that hey, we really make quite the pair, we've both been rendered completely useless by toxins and tar, and looked to Near, eyes interlocking for the briefest of moments. (Near saw everything, he always did, Mello had to remember that, take advantage of it when he could--)
"Make him comfortable, will you?"
Distract him from this secret of ours, alright?
Keep him ignorant.
And Mello walked away, locking himself behind closed doors.