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24 January 2007 @ 08:08 am
Mello and Near  
Who: [Mello] & [Near]
When: Sunday Night: before, during, and after 8 o’clock mass.
Where: The Confessional. Part One.
What: Near and Mello have an unusual confrontation in the church confessional. Read at your own discretion.



Large doors opened, the darkness and silence enveloped the room. Near scanned the room, quite pleased that there wasn't anyone there. The entire ordeal of Mello was draining him completely.

Glancing around, the mahogany pews, the maroon runner down the isle, and even the ornate altar, it evoked a feeling of foreboding. Even though Near enjoyed the silence and solitude the church provided, he could never shake the feeling that the plaster Christ had eyes that followed him.

Near walked slowly down the isle and came to one of the confessionals beside the altar. Slipping inside, he slid down the wall and sat on the floor. He wanted to think. He needed to think. Slipping off his shoes, he curled his knees to his chest and rested his head on them, closing his eyes.

This was the last place he would ever expect himself to be. He didn't associate himself with the stained glass windows, oak pews, the glass bowls of holy water at the entrance, nothing. He entered without dipping his index finger into the swallow basin of holy water. It was a representation of baptism- a reminder to everyone who entered the house of God. The church was lit entirely by candles, more so to the right wall of the church where the Virgin Mary stood above many candles. A sea of prayers..would they ever be heard? No one else occupied the church at this time that he was aware of.

He walked to the altar, hands grazing over the pews; he could feel the grains of wood between his fingers. Above the altar, set on the back wall was a large crucifix. Mello was taken aback by this larger than life figure of Christ, the sculpture had a life itself. But it was the eyes that he could not turn away from. Those stone eyes that seemed so much deeper. They couldn't possibly have been carved. A heavy feeling settled in Mello's stomach as he looked up at the crucifix before finally falling down to his knees, in awe.

He was holding onto his own rosary this time, the sides of the cross dug into the leather cushion of his gloves. Would he ever be rid of this?

Near reached into his pocket and pulled out a small square of wood. He's come quite nimble with his carving. He also reached in and pulled out a small carving knife wrapped in used leather. The leather was that of an old bible cover. He disregarded the scripture a long time ago, considering to be blasphemous. Unwrapping his knife, he closed his eyes and carved from memory. Any memory.

Whittling his little figurines often cleared his mind. Usually, the carvings reflected who was on his mind. Today, it could be a number of people. Miss Ichihara and her eccentricities, Mello and his ability to remain in hiding-- even after identification and full name and address was given (Near suspected that he may have moved from the YMCA, but he wasn't certain), Freya and her talent for designs... The possibilities could be numerous.

Ideally he could focus well and not watch his fingers at work. However, the inability to concentrate fully, he sliced his finger with the knife. His eyes flashed and he immediately stuck his index finger in his mouth, sucking his blood. He wondered how badly he was cut.

Many a things ran through Mello's mind, he was barely able to concentrate. Hands on the floor, head down, small tears drained from Mello's eyes. "Where were you?" his whispered inaudibly. His savior never came; he was far from being saved. Eyes wandered over to the confessional, the memories flooded his mind. The flood consumed him, drowning him in memories long lost forgot.

Ave Maria rang throughout his ear drums even though the church was silent. Everything was a blur from here on out. Mello didn't remember opening the confessional door; he didn't even realize it was already occupied. Standing there in a daze, his fingers raked against the screen. If only such screens existed for people like him. A barrier between what was good, and what was bad. What was harmful and what was beneficial.

He rested his head on the wall above the screen, fingers laced between the small spaces.

Near looked up, thumb still in his mouth. He seen that there was someone on the other side. He didn't move, nor did he make any sign of recognition that someone was in there. He sat where he was.

"Make it stop playing," Mello whispered, fingers tightening around the screen. His lungs felt as if they were vibrating from the sound of the music. Music that didn't exist in this reality. Voices sent chills up his spine, the hair on the back of his neck stood up.

"You have the eyes of an angel, Mihael." Words uttered that once sent him speechless. His body pressed against the wall, an invisible weight forced itself against his back and shoulders. Breath hastened, Mello's lip was cut open once again from teeth bearing into flesh. "With these lips you shall proclaim the word of God. You have been chosen, my son." He fought a silent battle of pleads, his mouth opened, his voice cracked a whimper.

He looked up at the fingers, now white around the knuckles from where the other boy was squeezing the wire screen. Near cocked his head to the side and listened for music, which was non-existent. And people think I'm crazy... he thought to himself.

Resisting the urge to touch Mello's fingers, he now sat in the seat. The whittling knife in his hand, along with the block of half carved wood. The figure that started to take form was a generic frame, nothing special.

Eyes shut, teeth gritted, he recited a prayer, a prayer reserved for those in danger. Those in need of His help. "O God, Who knowest us to be set in the midst of such great perils, that, by reason of the weakness of our nature, we cannot stand upright," he feel to his knees, fingers straining to hold on to the screen, "g-grant us such health of mind and body, that those evils which we suffer for our sins we may overcome through Thine assista- aagh!" he never did finish the prayer: Through Christ our Lord. Amen.. And it never was. And he was never saved. Mouth gaped open, a sound as if he were trying to gasp for breathe. Something warm settled within him.

Finally, he spoke. Quietly and somberly, "He never comes..."

Mello looked up, he had been taken out of this surrealism and back into reality. He heard a familiar voice, it took him a moment to understand what was said. Letting go of the screen, he slumped against the wall, "Does it matter when one sheep strays from the flock?"

"A sheep is a sheep. Flock or without, the Sheppard always watches. It may take time, but he watches..." curling his legs up to his chest, he still sucks on the wounded thumb. It won't stop bleeding.

Mello's nose wrinkled in contempt. "Don't spoon feed me that bullshit. How can he constantly be watching over them all? How can he let something happen to one of his most-" he pulled himself up, sliding the screen away for he was on the side the priest normally sat behind. "Tell me," he peeked inside, expecting to see the face behind the voice, "Near, how do you explain that?"

Near shrugged. "It’s unexplainable. Like all faiths, like all walks of life, there are the ones that taint the good. Not everyone is out to harm. Its black and white, Mello. Either you are good or bad. He knows who is who. Even sometimes the bad slips through the cracks..." He shook his head.

Near looked up at his one time friend. "Spoon fed bullshit and the bullshit you, yourself put out. Isn't it all the same?"

"It doesn't exist.." with a free hand, Mello grabbed hold of the rosary, pulling it off his neck. He looked down at it, ran his fingers along the edges of the cross. "It's just a symbol," he reached out to Near's side, rosary dangling from his palm.

"It never did. But you believed it all at one time. Until they did something unmentionable. So now you lash out at every thing in your path. Even an old friend." he reached up and touched the smooth surface of the rosary, the face was still charred.
"Even steal from him..." he said, actually sounding sad.

"Tch." Mello gave a slight eye roll. He noted Near's change of voice when he spoke, it got his attention, but he didn't want to discuss that matter further. Instead he concentrated on Near's finger, "You're bleeding."

"Only a cut." he brought his finger to his lips and sucked on the wound some more...

They were both bleeding. Mello's lip, Near's finger. Mello reached out and grabbed Near's hand, pulling him closer to the screen. His finger was cut badly, by a knife it seemed considering the deep slit. He placed Near's finger to his lip, "Only a puncture."

In the faint light, Near was able to see a faint red on Mello’s lip. "You're bleeding too..." he said, watching Mello bring the wounded finger to his lips.

He couldn't help but smirk a little, "Aren't we too old for this blood brother stuff?" Near resisted the urge to brush a lock of hair from Mello’s face. Instead, he watched the other boy.

Mello snipped lightly at Near's finger, "Shut up or I'll make the slit deepen," a small smirk spread across his face. This wasn't about brotherhood, Mello wasn't quite sure what this was about. Near's hand was feather soft compared to his. He sucked softly on the cut, waiting for the blood to subside.

Near watched, feeling the other boys tongue lap at his wound. The tongue was rough, sandpaper like. Although the weirdness of it all seemed to only intensify when Near noticed the goose bumps on his arm.

Standing, he moved closer to the screen. Pulling his hand from Mello's lips, he pressed his lips against the other boys. In turn, he let his own tongue lap at Mello’s bloodied lip

His breath hadn't caught up with him yet, it all happened so fast. Something slippery and wet was running against his bottom lip. Mello reacted almost instinctly, grabbing Near's face and pulling him into a kiss, he tasted his own blood mixed with both his and Near's saliva.

Near's body tensed, unsure of what to do. He was engaging in a kiss with someone who, despised everything about him. He was thrown off.

Even still, he wondered if this meant something other than being caught up in the moment. Maybe Mello does care about their friendship... More than he lets on? Confused and unsure of what to think, Near didn't move. He too cupped the other boys face, his wounded finger smearing blood on the other boys cheek. Closing his eyes, Near followed Mello's lead.

Mello felt his own body pressing against the wall for something that wasn't there, or rather somebody. As little experience as he had had previously, it must have been more than Near had. Near was sloppy, his hands were all over his face, finger-painting his cheeks with blood.

Letting out a small grunt, he grabbed for Near's shirt, pulling his white button up by the shoulders and through the large opening of the sliding screen.

Near pulled back slightly, his eyes, usually somber and knowing, were now pleading and almost frightened. "Mihael..." he whispered, not knowing what was going on.

He didn't intend on this happening. He didn't ever think that they'd be close again, much less this close. No, something wasn't right.

Standing there with his shirt off, his pale white body actually had a glimmer of pink to it. Was he blushing? Yes, yes he was. Nathaniel River, overcome by lust? Admiration? Confusion? Near's mind raced, with all of these things.

Watching him stand, he kept a close eye on Near. His face was flushed, he could see a small rosy tint in Near's cheeks. It stood out to the rest of his pale body, Near was almost as white as the clothes he wore. Defenses were down, Near was out of his comfort zone. Realizing this, Mello let out a small chuckle. "Where do you think you're going to?" for once in his life, did he actually have the upper hand? If it wasn't for Near being so awkward about it, he would have never noticed.

Near stood there, unabashed and half nude. "What do you think you are doing?" he remarked, almost as boldly as Mello. He reached for his shirt through the small hole. "You hate me, remember." he said plainly, the color draining from his cheeks. Near was slowly reverting to his emotionless state.

"Are you actually asking me a question? Fancy that Near. A question even you can't answer." His finger traced across the edge of the screen, cocking his head to the side.

Standing up, Mello opened the door on his side. The church was still unoccupied but would be filled soon for mass. He rapped lightly on Near's door. "Besides, it’s not like you to talk about like or hate."

"I ask because you hold out." he sat on the bench inside. He let the boy stand outside his door for a moment before reaching over and unlatching it, against his better judgment.

"Its not like you to show up in a church, yet here you are. There are always room for rare anomalies"
 
 
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