Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note.
A/N: I know it's shitty but I just had to.
IN THE MEMORY OF THE TWO PEOPLE THAT STOLE MY HEART AND MADE ME WHO I AM, EVEN IF THEY DON'T EXIST. IN THE MEMORY OF MATT AND MELLO. (26.01.10)
Memento mori / Heat
They knew it was already over.
Every little whimper escaping the blond, every shuddered breath resounding in the space of the scruffy apartment... It was going to be the last. There was no turning back at this point. Not when they achieved so much, and developed something magical in the process.
Unseparable factor, some would say. Like an invisible string, a connection making them throw away all masks and illusions. The only true picture, free from the every-day masquarade.
They said that's not what Kira wanted. In a world of fear and prejudice, kept at peace only by a steady phobia growing in everyone's hearts, that feeling was not something that should exist.
Like his heart that wasn't supposed to love ever again. Mello thought that when L died his whole existence turned into ashes. A successor without his mentor...
A worthless scum.
He wasn't even chosen, not like Near was either. The world threw him into a massive abyss of clues and people to deal with, pain and what little he had left of hope.
And yet on that one night, nothing mattered. Everything vanished and memories faded.
He got drunk on the feeling of the strong muscles of his friend, his warm skin on his own and his hair under his fingers.
His contradiction.
Matt felt that too, ironically enough. They said he was not born to love. Not even born to live. He never really payed attention to this bullshit. He wasn't much of a philosopher and just did his job. What was that, exactly, he didn't know. All that he was aware of was that he had a dream, a goal of sorts.
What kind of a goal..?
They said that you'd understand everything in the seconds before your death.
He wasn't dying yet. Although he was sure he would be in the next few hours.
Funny how it works, when you're aware of the upcoming danger you are feeling so much more. So damn intensive.
The air was sweeter, the colors more saturated...
Oh well, maybe it was just the taste of the chocoholic's mouth.
They felt it, understood it with every cell in their bodies. And yet, neither wanted to let go. A few minutes after the climax and Mello was still curled up on Matt's lap, face buried in the other's hair and arms cluthing his back tightly.
They were scared that if they opened their eyes, it would all turn out to be a dream.
"Mello..." a soft, raspy murmour was what finally made them move. They laid down, face to face, tight to tight and chest to chest.
Forehead to forehead.
Heart to heart.
The silence was their only friend, prolonging the night even if it was just a delusion of two desperate minds.
"Matt" it wasn't even a whisper. With a single tembre of his vocal chords, Mello put his fingertips on the other's lips. They were parted, the redhead's breath lingering on his digits.
He was beautiful with his half-lidded greed eyes and red hair that turned nearly black in the dark room.
"Mello" these lips curled up a little in a wistful smile, making the blond's heart skip a beat.
In the last moments before their death, that's when they nearly grasped the true meaning of it all. Feeling accomplished didn't require achieving something, although they would do such a thing in the morning. Not now, though.
In the end, we all die alone. But it's the heat that we carry inside that matters.
MxMSupporter, 2014