A/N: ... I have no explanation for this... Really, I just felt bad for Near and thought how would it be if he loved Mello and Mello didn't love him because Mello was with Matt and... It got angsty. XP It's not my fault! I wanted to write letters but Near got emo on me! :{ Anyways, this is set ten minutes before Mello confronts Near for his picture in the anime. You understand the rest. I also did this differently, it's written in first person, something I only do occasionly in flashbacks and whenever someone has inner monolougue or they're writing a letter. Please read, enjoy, and review! :D

A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words

A picture is worth a thousand words.

I've heard people say that many times before. I never took it literally, there was no point. We had no pictures, no proof to betray our existence, nothing to show who we were or who were going to be.

But now it's all different.

Or is it?

I look at the picture set on the ground in front of me and I think of the words that come to mind.

Strong. Senseless. Powerful. Smart. Emotional. Brave. Outgoing. Beautiful...

But there is really only one word that can completely explain the person I am looking at.

Mello.

Mello is his own self. A strong individual with the brains to help out his heart.

He always wanted to be different in every way possible. His attitude was different. His hair was different. His clothes were different. His own alias was different.

I think that he wanted complete difference from everyone. Complete isolation- complete domination. He wanted to be the smartest, the most intelligent out of everyone at the orphanage, but there was always one problem...

And he would blame me.

But it wasn't me, you see. It was all Mello. He was always smarter than me, always more outgoing than me but he had his own problem.

He was too different, and he needed to mix his differences.

It was like trying to mix oil and vinegar. The vinegar was his smart ideas, the ideas that would undoubtedly save him from any and all situations at hand. The oil was his emotions, making him second guess himself and ultimately rendering him useless.

And no matter how much Mello stirred, oil would always be on top.

So he blamed me, more as an outlet for anger than any form of excuse.

Do you know how much it hurts? How much pain I get from your accusations? You were one of the most beautiful people I have ever seen, one of the smartest people I have ever known, one of the strongest people I have ever loved. And yet you hurt me anyway.

Damn it.

I take the paper I just wrote words upon and crumple it, throwing it over my shoulder where the trash can is placed.

If I made it in, I don't know. And I don't care.

Mello is coming soon. We're in a fight against Kira and I'm the one with the only thing that can bring his demise. I hold his picture before me on the ground.

A picture is worth a thousand words.

But where do I start? Do I tell him about how I feel? Do I say that I want him here and safe? Do I yell at him for being cruel?

Do you know that I've always loved you? That you were always the most amazing thing to me? Ever since I first met you I always wanted you as mine and mine alone, even when you completely shun me away and say hurtful things to me. I still love you.

Ugh.

What am I kidding? I was never good at this sort of thing. This is what Mello was good at. This is what Mello would always be better at.

I crumple the paper and throw it over my shoulder.

A picture is worth a thousand words.

Really? Then how come I can't find the correct thousand to write to Mello?

I stare at the picture again, losing myself in the beauty. I want those thousand words so much.

Do you know that Matt does not deserve you? That no one, not even me, should be able to get you? Your are the best thing in the whole world and yet you chose to be with Matt, who I did not even notice until you called for his help. You turned me down to be with him and-

I would hit myself if I didn't have my dignity.

Where are these words that would grasp Mello's attention and make him see- finally, really see- the truth behind everything. Everything that I want to show him, everything he needs to know, everything that Mello will understand.

Where are these thousand words?

As I crumple up the paper and throw it I stare at his picture. Finally, I understand.

I can't find the words. I can't find the thousand words because they were not mine to find.

Mello doesn't listen to anyone else's opinions or feelings, he doesn't hear what he doesn't want to hear, and he will always do whatever it is that he wants.

So I can't stop him. I can't talk to him. I can't help him.

I'm helpless.

But maybe there is something I can do...

::10 Minutes Later::

Mello leaves, the sound of his boots fading away behind my back. I never turned to look at him. I don't think I would have been able to keep myself composed if I did look him in the face.

He took his picture, just as I knew he would. Would you believe he actually gave me information in return?

He also took my letter, he took all of my one thousand and two words I gave him, and he didn't even realize it.

His picture was not as it was before. On the back held two of my thousand words. It was the beginning of my letter.

It read: Dear Mello.

Because Mello only saw what he wanted to see, only read what he wanted to read. So the rest of my letter was the picture.

Because a picture is worth a thousand words.