#and the ending i rewrote on my phone on a 4 hour flight

[runningincircl3s]

Nothing Ever After

Noah Sebastian x Reader x Vinny Mauro

Chapter 4

no chapter warnings! also i’m aware i’m missing a lottt of the guys out such as aj and logan and the other miw guys we see in rick's vlogs AND IM SORRY i just don’t know them well enough to include in the story :) just pretend they’re there in the background somewhere doing something stupid

i rewrote this chapter three times :/ also i'm trying to figure out a posting schedule... i'm thinking fridays and mondays :)

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Jeez, it was only three hours but my ass really hurts!” Folio moaned, as everyone was stood waiting to collect their luggage. 

The flight here was nowhere near as bad as the guys’ London flight which you were grateful for. You were sat on an end next to Jolly, who was almost left behind by Matt on the way to the airport. In the end, Ash couldn’t come, to which Noah seemed quite upset by, but he had a family emergency so everybody understood. So it was just you, Bryan, Matt, Nick, Nicholas, Jolly and Noah in the end.

“I’m so tired.” You groaned, leaning against Folio, “I would’ve fallen asleep on the plane if it wasn’t for Jolly humming to some songs the whole way here.” 

“Hey, is that yours?” Matt asked and reached out for your suitcase, checking the name tag. 

“Dad Omens are back,” Bryan chuckled, “oh there’s Ruffilo’s!” 

You were stood around for about half an hour collecting your suitcases, and of course Matt’s came out last. When you finally passed security and made it out of the airport, Noah got a call. 

“Guys, it’s Chris,” he said before answering, “Hello?”

“Hey, I just got your text! Where are you guys?”

“We’re outside now, waiting for the cab to take us to the hotel. Where are you?”

“We’re on the bus on the way to the hotel, hey why don’t I ask if we can come and get you?”

“Are you sure?” Noah raised his eyebrows.  

“Of course! We should have room for you guys, you won't have to worry about trying to fit all your things in a cab!” 

“You have a point there… We don't have a bus until tomorrow because we changed our flight at such short notice, so if you don’t mind...” 

“Of course not! We’ll be there in no time.”

“Thanks, man.” Noah said with a smile, hanging up. “Chris is organising for them to pick us up so that should only be about 20 minutes.” 

“Only?!” You frowned. 

“The time will pass, we’ll be in our rooms in no time.” Noah smiled as he stretched his arms.

“Oh shit the rooms!” Matt’s eyes almost bulged out of his head, rushing to reach into his pocket for his phone. “Noah why the fuck did you change the flight. This has messed everything up!” 

“Why is it my fault? I didn’t think you guys would’ve wanted to rush around tomorrow when we landed and have to set everything up in one day without a break. I was prioritising us for once, now that we’ve got the money to do so.” 

“Yeah but we’re not made of cash, Noah! We’ve budgeted for this whole tour and just about made it so we don’t lose any money-”

“Matt…” Noah tried to interject. 

“So I’m sorry if I was actually being realistic!” 

“Matt-” He tried again. 

“I’m just sick of this shit every time we go on tour! There’s always something that goes wrong and-”

“Matt, if you'd shut your mouth for two seconds I was going to tell you I called the hotel the other night and extended our stay. Our rooms are booked for tonight too.” 

Suddenly, Matt was silent. Everyone else stood around in silence as Noah ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. 

“So I hope you got the fucking numbers right this time.” Noah said before sitting down on the ground by the edge of the road, stretching his legs out. 

Matt looks on his phone to check the booking, but makes a puzzled face. 

“Wait…” He frowns, “there’s… 7 of us, that can’t be…”

“What?” You ask, your tone coming across more harsh than you intended. 

“I cancelled Ash’s room when he called… but he was supposed to share with Noah- Fuck!”

“What does that mean?” Nicholas asked. 

“I have 3 rooms booked.” Matt explained, “one of them has three smaller beds- that was for me, Jolly and Bryan. Then there was 2 with 2 double beds, which was for Nicholas and Folio and the other one for y/n as it was all they had available”

Unbeknownst to you, Folio gave Nicholas a smirk as he suggested, 

“So if theres no other way, Noah could either share a bed with Ruffilo again or stay with y/n?” 

"Just when I thought our bed sharing days are over," Nicholas chuckled, "it would make sense to share the room with y/n though, wouldn't it?"

“I guess that works,” Matt said, “But only if you’re happy to do that, y/n? Otherwise I’ll ask the motionless guys, I don’t think Justin's sharing with anyone?” 

“Is that okay?” Noah asked, looking up at you.

“I guess,” you smiled, “It should be okay, it’s only for two nights, right?”

“That’s right, tonight and tomorrow, then the night after that we’re on the bus, baby!” Matt clapped, earning a groan from Folio. 

Noah’s phone vibrates on the ground, and as he picks it up he realises it’s from Chris. 

“Hey, Chris just said they’re a couple minutes away, we better start walking down.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“It’s so great to see you again! I've been counting down the days to this tour.” Chris grinned as he helped load the bus with the suitcases and bags. “How are you guys?” 

“Tired,” Matt says, handing him another bag, “our flight got delayed by a couple hours so we should’ve been here sooner.” 

“That’s the joys of travelling, my friend.” Chris smiles, and you wheel your suitcase over to him, “oh, I don’t think we’ve met before, I’m Chris,” he says, extending a heavily tattooed hand towards you, “I shout and sing for Motionless in White.” 

“Great to meet you!” You grinned, “I’m y/n, I’m a photographer. I guess you could say I’m Bryan’s apprentice for the next few months, I’ve never toured before so I’m here to get some experience and learn some things.”

“No way! Wait…” Chris looked at Bryan and Matt and then back to you, “Our photographer can’t join us until the third date of tour, so if you’re available I’d love to steal you, or even Bryan if you don’t feel ready yet?” 

“Really?” You looked between all the guys, as if to ask for permission, “I’d love to! Once I know what I’m doing, of course!” 

Everyone began to get on the bus, greeting the other guys who were currently either playing a game or on their phones, except for two guys near the back who were talking to a camera. 

“Guys I have solved our photographer dilemma!” Chris proudly announced as he got onto the bus, “Y/n’s filling in for the first three days!”

“Hi.” You smile awkwardly as you follow behind Chris, the first guy you spotted had bright green hair and was tall! Perhaps even taller than Noah. 

“I’m Justin, great to meet you.” He says as he sits down with a bright smile, “how was the flight?”

“It was bearable,” you said, sitting down opposite him, “are you the… bassist?”

“Yep!” He nodded. You wanted to say you recognised him from another band, but you felt rather embarrassed that you couldn't remember the bands name...

“Cool! I don’t really know much about your band, I’ve heard a few songs and they’re sick! I know there’s also a Ricky…” 

“That’s him! The one with the camera.” Justin pointed to a guy with short black hair, the one who had the camera which he was now pointing at a guy with brown hair with red streaks, who somewhat resembled Timothee Chalamet. “Rick thinks he’s a youtuber, he vlogs our tours and posts them if he can be arsed to edit it. If he asks you for an update, say no and get away as soon as you can!” He laughed.

“Okay,” you smile, “thanks.”

“There’s also… you've met Chris, that’s Ryan over there! The handsome one talking to Noah, he plays guitar. And then there’s Vinny, the one sat with Rick, he’s our drummer boy, aren’t you Vin?!” 

Vinny looked over and when you thought he was about to say something, he held up his middle finger instead. 

“I should also mention Ricky plays guitar, he does vocals on some songs too, and so do I occasionally.” Justin adds, and so far you were growing quite fond of him, “So you're a photographer?”

“I guess-”

“You guess?” Bryan laughed as he sat down beside you. “You wouldn’t be here if you ‘guessed’ you were, you’re sick, y/n. Give yourself some credit!” 

You smiled, looking down at your hands in your lap. 

“Guys, I’ve accidentally gotten us invited to this party at a club tomorrow night,” Chris announced to the bus, “Does anyone even want to go? I don’t think I’ll go but-”

“Hell yeah,” Vin nodded, “can I DJ again?”

“I mean you could ask. They might not approve of your DJ name though.” Rick laughed, putting his camera down. “I’ll probably sit this one out, I have shit to do.” 

“I’ll go,” you smile, “it’s been some time since I’ve had a night out. Bryan, you'll come too, right?” 

"Yeah why not!"

“Are you sure this is a good idea? We play our first show the next day?” Noah asked, a hint of annoyance in his voice.  

“No one’s making you go,” you tell him, “I think it'll be fun... You’ll come too, won’t you, Folio?” 

“Yeah, sure!” He grinned. 

Eventually, it was settled that Ryan, Vinny, Folio, Bryan and you would all be going to this party. You couldn’t help but notice that Noah seemed quite pissed on the way back to the hotel, he didn’t look up from his phone once, and didn’t even bother to join in the conversations everyone was having. 

Once you got to the hotel and got off the bus, Noah handed you one of your bags, but he took both his and your suitcases and you both began to walk up to the entrance.

“Are you sure you’re alright to share a room with me?” You asked, breaking the silence and Noah furrowed his eyebrows. 

“Yeah I guess, why are you asking?” 

“You just seem a bit pissed off, that's all. It better not be because I’m going out with the guys tomorrow night.” 

“It’s not, that doesn’t bother me. I’m just tired, we have a lot going on in the next few days, well months even. I've been around people all day and I just want to go to sleep.” He sighed, following your lead into the hotel. 

Once you got checked in and made it to your room, you immediately took off your shoes and threw yourself down onto the bed you would claim as yours.

The first thing Noah did was take a shower, and as he came back out of the bathroom- wet hair, bare chest, nothing but his chain and a towel wrapped around his hips- he reached for his phone, before plugging his charger in and sitting down on his bed. 

“Hey, I should add you to our group chat,” he says, replying to a message that was sent, “if that’s okay with you?” 

“Yeah, that’ll be great, I’ll have all the guys' numbers then.” You said, getting up from the bed and heading to the bathroom to wash your face, brush your teeth and get changed. 

Whilst you brushed your teeth, you got a notification which you assumed was a text from Chris, judging by the profile picture. You went into see who was in the group chat, you guessed Justin was the guy in the picture with his wife and daughter, yet you were still unsure about the others as their pictures weren't of them and seemed quite confusing- especially the one of shadow the hedgehog?

As you walked back to your bed, you noticed Noah had changed into a pair of sweatpants and a black top. You quickly averted your gaze ang got under the covers, all of a sudden feeling quite cold. 

“Are you going to sleep? Do you want me to turn off the light?” He asked, looking over at you. 

“Yeah, please.” You mumbled, trying to get comfy.

Noah reached over and switched the lights off, whispering a ‘goodnight’ as he did so. 

After what felt like almost half an hour, you still couldn’t sleep. Your mind just wouldn’t shut off and it was starting to become too overwhelming. 

“Noah… are you still awake?” You whispered, not wanting to wake him if he was asleep.  

“Yeah, what’s up?” 

“I can’t sleep, I can’t stop overthinking,” your voice started to crack, feeling tears begin to fill your eyes, “could you… lay with me, maybe?” 

He didn’t answer, but you heard him get up. He climbed under the covers with you and put his arm out. You cuddled up to him, listening to the gentle pat of his heartbeat as you rested your head on his chest. 

“What have you been thinking about?” He asked softly, playing with your hair. 

“Everything, I don’t feel like I should be doing this, Noah. I don’t feel like I deserve this. People work their asses off and get nothing, and I’ve just been handed this all of a sudden!”

“Hey, hey, don’t start to doubt yourself." He whispers, "How many years have you been doing photography for? From what I’ve heard you’ve worked your ass off too! Just because something like this has been given to you doesn’t mean you haven’t worked for it. You deserve it as much as anyone else, okay? You wouldn’t be here right now if the guys and I didn’t like your work or saw potential in you.” He says, comfortingly rubbing your back as your bottom lip quivered once more, but you tried your hardest to hold your tears back. 

“I know,” you whispered, “it just… I don’t know, it doesn’t feel real. This is all I’ve ever wanted and now it’s within my reach.” 

“I know, angel,” he sighed, “But things can go as quickly as they come, so stop doubting yourself before I send you home!” You could practically hear the smirk on his face, and you gently smacked him as you moved your head so you could look at him.

“Could you... maybe stay here with me tonight- you haven’t got to hold me or anything... I just haven’t stayed so far away from home for like 10 years and-”

“Of course, but only if you actually shut up and let me sleep.” He said, rolling on to his side to hide his smile. 

“Noah!”

“Goodnight, y/n.” 

You rolled your eyes as you turned to your side, no longer trying to conceal the smile on your face. Maybe he was right, maybe you did deserve this.

As you let your eyes fall shut, you imagined what tomorrow would bring. You imagined what it would be like to get to know the guys from the other band, you imagined what it would be like to get out on the stage...

And before you knew it, you were fast asleep.

——————————————

i’m SO excited for the next chapter! :)

@rumoured-whispers @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @lma1986 @thisbicc @dominuslunae @miss570 @miamore0570 @jilliemiw86

[gracetoldmeto]

🍋 Lemon Boy 🍋

Pairing: Mello | Mihael Keehl/Unnamed Female OC or Mello | Mihael Keehl/3rd POV fem!reader

Characters: Mello | Mihael Keehl, Matt | Mail Jeevas, Unnamed Female OC

Warnings: Mentions of self-harm and attempted suicide

Words: 7320

Summary: It’s a race against the clock for Mello to get home. They found him and she could be stuck in the resulting crossfire. Hopefully he can find a way out of this nightmare, or it will haunt him for the rest of his life.

Author’s Notes:  This was inspired by the title and some lyrics to “Lemon Boy” by  Cavetown. Also, the “…” denotes a flashback or a time skip and “they/them” italicized is in reference to Mello’s rival mafia group. I didn’t include many details since I deemed them unnecessary. Feel free to use your imagination, and all blocks of italics are during a flashback.

This is my first ever fic, I hope you enjoy (plz share if you do) cause I really liked writing it :)

Read on AO3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“MELLO!” A strained voice, nearly out of breath, frantically yelled from the alleyway outside.

The blonde, who had been engrossed in polishing his gun, flung his head back in frustration and threw down the cloth he was using. He hated to be interrupted. He needed to stay focused, and he didn’t have time for interruptions. But just as he was about to open his mouth for a slicing retort, his widening eyes locked on Matt’s deeply rattled expression after the door was slammed open. “What’s going on?” Mello’s tone was stern but concerned and his shoulders tensed as he slowly stood up.

Matt gulped and ran gloved fingers through ruffled hair from the humidity, but quickly and commandingly answered. “You need to get home. Now.”

Mello, in hearing the redhead’s rare tone, instantly moved to act on his best friend’s words, but his squinting and slightly confused eyes prompted Matt to continue, to which only three words followed.

It only took a moment for him to process before his heart sunk into his stomach and his blue eyes grew ice cold. He ripped his leather jacket on, holstered his weapon, and fisted the keys to his bike, briefly glancing down as he tightly gripped one particular keychain on the carabiner. His heart was racing at a faster tempo than his feet carried him into the alley and “No…” was the only word repeating in his head.

“They found you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

While running to their respective motor vehicles, Matt had filled him in on what little details he could. Mello was aware that a rival group had been on a manhunt for him since one of his first jobs went sideways, but that was years ago. Since then, he had been even more careful about the paper trail he left behind him. But it was still likely he had slipped up at some point. His sleep deprivation must’ve been beginning to add up. Damn it. This was all his fault, he thought. He would’ve continued to beat himself up about it, but he knew right now there was a larger issue at hand. He needed to get home to her.

…

“You are such a hypocrite, you know that?” she screamed at him.

Mello wanted to shout a response, but he only rolled his eyes and threw his keys into the bowl on the counter.

“You don’t get it. You are going to get yourself killed!”

“It’s fine. I’m alive now, aren’t I?” Mello retorted.

“Oh, don’t you dare play that game with me you son-of-a-bitch. Half of your old mafia buddies weren’t so lucky! What if I had to look into your lifeless eyes? What if you had to look into Matt’s?”

Mello rolled his eyes again and thought to himself, “I really can pick ‘em, can’t I?” but his thought was interrupted by a painful stinging smack across his face.

“Hey!” Mello was startled, “What the fuck was that for?”

She glared back at him beginning to ramble. She always did when she was anxious. “Don’t you dare go blaming this on me! I have been so worried…”

Mello had had enough of the talking. He cupped her jaw to guide his lips to hers and cut off her verbal spiral with a kiss. She stopped, dumbfounded. And when they parted, stared into his sincere eyes. Mello sighed and spoke soft and apologetically.

“To be honest…” he paused, trying to pry the words out, “I was terrified.” He looked down at his feet, “When my plan went south, I didn’t know if I was going to have another chance to do that,” he looked longingly at her pink parted lips, “ever again.” Her eyes softened a bit, but only slightly. Mello sighed. Hating the sincerity that he had unintentionally spoke into existence, he attempted to lighten the mood. “Well… now I know, when life gives you lemons…” he chuckled and leaned in to kiss her again.

She begrudgingly accepted and suppressed a giggle in response. “If anything, you’re the lemon here, Mr. Lemonhead. One moment you’re all bitter and pessimistic, and in the next you act like nothing has ever phased you in your life.”

“And that makes me a lemon?” Mello played along.

“Obviously, blondie!” motioning to his head as she tucked a lock of his golden hair behind his ear. She then paused with a pondering look. “Well, that and you always taste of the bittersweet cocoa from nibbling on bars of your dark chocolate all the damn time.”

Mello gazed up into her eyes. He firmly placed his hand on the nape of her neck and pulled her in, this time lingering for a deeper kiss. “Well, do you like how I taste?” He winked.

“You son-of-a-bitch” she teased, playfully punching his shoulder, and briefly kissing him back before whispering in his ear, “But yeah, I do. You’re my little lemon boy,” and pushing him away, clearly still a little upset from the earlier argument.

It was in that moment, seeing her walk away slightly defeated, that Mello swore he would protect them both. He knew they would come after him, but, as long as he was careful, he could keep them both safe. He could do it. He had to.

Months passed and Mello found himself finally returning home after weeks of being away. He couldn't stay in one spot for long or else they’d track him down. He hated being away from her, but it was the only way to keep her safe. As usual, it was late, about 4AM. Typical for the time he would usually return to the apartment. Mello walked up the frozen steps and quietly unlocked the deadbolted door, waving to Matt to thank him as he drove away. The 400 square foot studio apartment wasn’t much, but it was all they could afford, and yet, it was home. Their home, together.

He slid off and shook out his red jacket. It had been snowing on his way home. He hung it up on the wall and turned to toss his keys in the bowl on the counter, but something caught his eye in the moonlit room. There was something already in the bowl. He stepped closer to investigate. There he found a note.

"Happy Birthday, Mels! Here's a lemonhead for my lemon boy!" He furrowed his brows and looked at the calendar on the fridge. Right. It was his birthday. How typical it was of him to forget. How on earth did she always remember? He looked over to the bed in the corner of the room. She was sound asleep. Yet Mello got the feeling in his gut that she was somehow restless.

Mello turned back and picked the object out of the bowl. It was a keychain. The charm was cheap but sturdy, made of yellow plastic and small, about the size of a walnut shell. But it was in fact the shape of a lemon. He spun it around scrutinizing the charm in his fingers. A small caricature of a face revealed itself. It was a lemonhead. He smiled. Why was he smiling?

He paused, thinking. Maybe he was beginning to understand… and was possibly even happy being lemon boy… or rather… her lemon boy.

Mello slid the keychain onto his carabiner and threw the union of the two back into the bowl. The note, he posted on the fridge under a magnet before tiptoeing his way over to the bed. He slid under the heavy blankets and wrapped his arms around her.

Recognizing his touch in her sleep, she turned toward him with eyes clenched shut. Oh, how he wished she would open them. The moonlight always reflected off them with such beauty. She was sleeping, but uneasy. A nightmare, perhaps? No. Just anxious, he concluded, not that this realization made him feel any better about witnessing her distressed state. But all she did was cup a cold shaking hand on his cheek and nestle herself under his chin, her head on his heart. She was warm, but shivering. Mello held her tighter waiting and watching until her eyes relaxed, transforming her shallow gasps to deep breaths, and letting her body melt beside his.

Mello smiled and whispered into her hair, “Your lemon boy is home.”

…

The traffic was heavy, Mello thought. Or maybe that was how it normally was at this time of day in the city. But traffic always seems to be heavier when you have somewhere to be, and especially when it’s a race against the clock. He turned his head and confirmed that Matt was indeed driving behind him on the road in his red Camaro. But this traffic! He didn’t have time for this. “Fuck it!” he shouted, muffled by his helmet, and turned onto the shoulder of the highway before kicking up his legs up onto their pedals, his gloved hand throttling the accelerator as far as it would go.

The initial panic that had manifested in his chest passed which meant he was focused. He needed to get home as fast as he could and at any cost. He skillfully wound his bike between the moving cars, cutting off a few drivers in the process, and receiving multiple loud and aggressive honks in response. Usually, he would’ve flipped them off or at least responded with a dangerous glare in their direction, but that didn’t matter now. Not since she was in trouble. “Damn it!” he yelled once more. “I don’t have time for this!”

His method of navigation had left Matt miles behind him, but at least he would be able to make it home sooner. Mello tried to prevent his mind from wandering, but it was too gut-wrenchingly easy to imagine what they would do to her. Memories of that botched job from years ago began to crowd his imagination. His mind filled with the images of lifeless eyes of his past crew who had died at their hands. But as he accelerated around the last turn, he blinked and slightly shook his head as if to shake off the memory like a bug on his helmet visor. “Focus,” he assured himself. But that half-hearted attempt to calm himself was useless once the door to his… their home came into view.

The door! The door was left open. Not all the way, but enough to provide evidence that this was not just a nightmare. He was tired of suffering so many of those too, and though he never enjoyed them, this was the only moment he prayed that he was dreaming in one right now, because she would be there when he woke up.

…

Out of the darkness that was consuming him, Mello was suddenly pulled toward a light by the sound of a woman’s voice and a feeling of being abruptly and violently shaken.

“Mels, focus on my voice! You need to wake up! You need to breathe. Breathe, Mihael! Breathe!”

Mello shot out of bed faster than a bolt of lightning. He frantically stood up as if he was readying himself for a fight and looking around the room seemingly searching for the source of the disturbance. His center of balance low and his fists raised in preparation to defend himself at all costs. His adrenaline was pumping. His head was pounding. His pulse was sprinting. He struggled to breathe, and he couldn’t quite make out where he was. Where had they taken him? Or was he already dead. Was this hell?

“Mels! MELS, it’s me! Wake up! Please wake up!” The woman’s voice was shaken but determined. It nearly sounded like she was holding back tears, but Mello couldn’t discern for certain. “Mello! You are dreaming! You need to wake up! Everything is going to be okay!”

Mello blinked a few more times to slowly regain his bearings as he fully woke up and realized he was in no real danger. He hesitantly lowered his fists, relaxed his tightened muscles, and let out a gasp for air that he felt like he was holding for an eternity. He looked down to his feet standing barefoot on the chilly vinyl floor. The cold was comforting, something real, something he could feel. His tunnel vison was slowly fading. He looked up, locking eyes with hers.

She was sitting up on the bed on her heels with one arm outstretched toward him and one gripping the sheets to keep her balance. Concern was clearly written in the beautiful moonlit glint in her eyes. Mello thought he noticed a tear. It was unusual to see her cry in front of him, or anyone really. They both had that in common. As well as their stubborn disposition and volatile temper. Except she had a larger capacity for empathy. Why she put up with Mello, he would never logically understand fully. Maybe that’s why they were suited for one another. But his thoughts were soon whisked away as she leaped out of the bed and flung herself around him, consoling him in a warm embrace.

“It’s ok Mels, I’ve got you,” she quietly reassured him. Mello’s startled gaze, which was slowly softening, met her kind eyes as she gingerly brought her hand up and combed her fingers through the sweat beads on his knotted blond bangs, only stopping to cup his cheek in her hand. She stared warmly into his cool deep blue eyes, almost melting them. “My lemon boy,” she sweetly muttered as she smiled with beaming eyes. “There’s that sweet face!” she paused, “I hate to see you so bitter.”

Mello kept her gaze and responded with the smallest of smiles only noticeable by one raised corner of his lips. He saw a shimmer of moonlight on her lashes. It was a tear after all. Maybe that was why he was blinking back moisture as well. His eyes must really have been melting. She always was the only warmth that could do ever that. Her tears were rare, but he hated when she did let them out. She let out a sigh and lowered her forehead until it was resting on his shoulder. She was still trying to protect him.

Mello was still a little dazed and trying to catch his breath. Though he was not usually one for physical affection, part of him was always comforted by her warm and protective arms. This wasn’t the first time he was jarred awake from a panic-inducing nightmare, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Yet she was always there to help him out of it. Always. Part of Mello hoped she always would be. But for a man with a dangerous life like Mello, “always” wasn’t a privilege he could ever be sure to expect or promise to anyone else. So, he lay back down in bed with her and tried to focus on “the now” as she always told him. That was the only thing worth living in for the moment being. The future was always so uncertain. He hated that.

After getting settled back under the sheets, he turned to face her, reaching his arms out in a similar protective embrace, her back molded into his chest, holding onto her like his life depended on it. In a way it did. “Thank you,” he finally spoke.

She did not respond, but instead grabbed his forearm that was holding her, squeezed in acknowledgement, and pleasantly let out a sigh. Small wordless smiles could be seen on both their faces as her fingers reassuringly found Mello’s own, allowing them to both find enough comfort in each other’s touch to fall back asleep.

…

Mello hurriedly parked his bike and removed his black helmet revealing sweaty and matted hair. This was no nightmare. This was real life. As if to double check that fact one last time, Mello yanked off his gloves and felt the hot metal of his bike, palm down, burning him. That was real, painfully real.

He bolted up the stairs and sprinted apprehensively through the cracked door. The sight that awaited him should only have been seen in a nightmare. It was maybe even too gruesome for that either. But, like the bitingly cold vinyl, and burning hot metal. It was real.

Mello scanned every inch of the room. Furniture was tossed, glass was shattered, there were smoking holes in the walls, and the worst of it all was the blood on the floor. It was pooling and expanding at an alarming rate. And at the source was the worst nightmare Mello could ever have. She was near unconscious, leaning up against the bullet-ridden wall for support.

Time nearly stopped. But Mello pushed on. He had to save her. He had to save his “always.” This was the only chance he had, and it was fading as rapidly as the blood pool expanded. Everything felt to be happening in slow motion. While rushing over to her, Mello managed to dial 911 on his cell, mentioned an address, and then tossed the phone aside. He ran to her body, carefully supporting her head and lifting her up into his arms. She still had a pulse, but it was faint. Mello sat in the crimson pool and adjusted her head on his elbow as carefully as if he was holding an infant. Mello held onto her like her life depended on it.

The sudden adjustment of her body had woken her up. The pain and panic in her eyes was just as evident to Mello as the viscous pool of her blood he was now soaked in.

“It’s okay, everything is going to be okay. Just listen to my voice,” Mello said, attempting to be reassuring.

“Mels,” her weak voice struggled to squeeze out his name. “You’re here.” She smiled, her hand reaching out for him. Her fingers still traced the same path as always, delicately combing his sweaty bangs out of his face and then finally resting to cup his cheek. This time, Mello couldn’t help but melt into her hand and close his eyes.

“My lemon boy,” she breathily whispered. Mello opened his wet eyes as she shakily forced another smile. “Promise me you’ll stay my bittersweet lemon boy.” Mello couldn’t reply. He was trying so hard to choke back tears. “We’re gonna live forever, you and me, remember?” she took another labored breath. “But maybe just not right away,” she said, lowering her hand from his face and reaching for his rosary.

Mello helped her clasp the crucifix of the necklace in her hand as he leaned down to kiss her fingers. Her eyes were beginning to get cloudy. Mello hated that he knew what would come next, and what always happened next. But what he hated even more was that there was not a damn thing he could do about it.

Seemingly reading his mind, she dropped the rosary and returned her hand to its home on his cheek, her eyes looking deep into his teary icy blues. They were fully melting now, transforming from glaciers to a warm and salty sea. But Mello kept his eyes fixed on hers. Somehow some light had returned to them, though her consciousness was fading and the last of her sparkling soul was leaking out.

She inhaled, “When you dream, I want you to remember this,” her fingers resting on his face tapped his temple. “Remember us. But remember this was real. It may only become a memory, but it happened,” she paused. “We happened.” Mello saw moisture in her eyes. “And I wouldn’t trade one second of it.” She gasped, trying with great difficulty to take in a breath.

“Mels…” Slightly uncertain, but recognizing her limited time, she continued. “…I love you.”

Mello might as well have been one with that puddle of blood since he felt as such. His heart felt a suffocating pressure and piercing pain nothing could relieve. All he could do was hold her. So he did. Like his life depended on it. The tears were raining from his face now. Some droplets pattering into the puddle he sat in, and some baptized her cheek. But between muffled sobs and hitched breaths, he was somehow able to whimper his confession. “I love you too.”

Again, and without looking, his hand briefly grabbed the lemon keychain on his keys, before resting his hand on hers and leaning more into her touch on his face.

A tear swelled in her eye, threatening to drop. She smiled and took a labored breath before faintly uttering into Mello’s ear, “My little lemon boy…” And with that, the tear, which had stolen the last of the light from her eyes and her soul with it, fell. Just as the warmth of her hand fell from Mello’s cheek and she let out a long deflating exhale.

The world stopped. Who knows how much time had passed until Matt found them. Mello sure as hell didn’t.

Matt’s tires squealed and sirens blared outside seconds before he came running in alongside the paramedics, shoving them out of the way. He found Mello in a state he would never soon forget. Faintly crying and rocking her lifeless body, cursing his inability to protect her. And worst of all, staring into her eyes, devoid of all light, and praying that it was all a dream.

The passage of time in Mello’s mind for the next few hours seemed both instantaneous and stagnant at the same time. Impossibly slow but also over in a flash. Matt and Mello were ushered outside as the EMT’s did their jobs. Somehow, they made it to the coroner’s office. Mello couldn’t remember how. All he could see were her eyes. Or at least what was left of them in his memory. They talked to some people. Nurses? Doctors maybe? Who knows? Matt did all the talking while Mello was struggling to cling onto the reality that he no longer wished to be a part of.

Once they were finished, Mello wandered outside. Matt followed close behind. Giving him some space to do whatever he needed. They wandered to a park on the edge of the city. There was no one around, but Matt recognized it as where Mello had met her. Matt had never been here, but Mello talked about that day all the time in such surprising detail that he almost felt like he was there witnessing their beginnings with them.

A gust of wind blew into Mello’s face. Clouds had rolled in, so the temperature had dropped significantly, and the breeze felt nice on his skin. He stopped and closed his eyes. Focusing on the realness of the cool feeling. When the breeze died down a bit, he kept wandering.

Matt stood behind Mello, who had found a spot to sit on the curb of a walking trail and placed a hand on his shoulder. Mello shook it off without even so much as looking up at him. His gaze was miles long as he denied his grief. “This was always going to happen. She’s been dead since the beginning.”

“Mello…” Matt was about to go on.

“Shut it, Mail!”

Matt did as he was asked.

“She was dead the moment I met her. I knew that. But I was too naive to accept it. This is my penance.” He paused. “‘Always’? pfft… what a fucking joke of a word.”

Mello then frantically stood up. His center of balance low and his fists raised toward the empty air in front of him. “Please let this be a nightmare. Let me wake up! I want to wake up!” he screamed at the clouds in the sky. His melted eyes were leaking again. Those salty seas flowed into tiny capillary rivers down his cheeks where her hand used to touch him.

“Mello.” Matt grabbed his shoulder again.

Mello acknowledged him this time. But he turned on his heels and punched Matt square in the chest before taking off into an exasperated sprint down the trail. As he ran, he silently continued to cry, wiping the tears with the back of his hand to clear his blurred vision. He kept running. And running and running. Continuing to sprint even after his quivering gasps sounded like the last of hers.

Upon nearly passing out, he eventually approached a river. It was almost overflowing from the summer’s thunderstorms. Even now it looked as if it was about to rain soon. He slowed down as he neared the riverbank. The jarred jingle of his keys from his halt had caught his attention. He looked down to the carabiner on his belt loop.

Mello’s cracked and broken heart, failing to be held together, finally exploded into countless piercing shards of glass.

He ripped the carabiner off the leather belt loop of his pants, eyes piercing down at the lemon keychain. Frantically he removed it from the carabiner and brought his fist behind his head, preparing to launch it downstream. But before his arm could swing, Matt had tackled him.

“Mello, STOP!” Matt grabbed the wrist holding the keychain. “What are you doing?!”

“She’s gone, Matt! She’s dead. And she’s never coming back. And I never want to see her again. I want to forget she ever existed! I don’t want to see her eyes in my mind anymore. Take that memory away from me!” Mello screamed so loud his voice was beginning to crack. But maybe that was also because he was failing to hold back tears.

“I know. But why do you want to forget her so quickly?”

“Matt, you’re a smart bastard. Use that brain of yours. Figure it out on your own! Now let go of my hand, you asshole!”

Matt only gripped tighter.

“Mail! Let GO!”

“Mello…”

“Fuck off! Why can’t you go away and let me be?”

“Mels, there’s something you need to know.”

Mello briefly stopped resisting. “Yeah?!” he responded, antagonistically.

“Listen, you’re not going to like what I’m about to tell you.”

Mello snorted and replied in a sarcastic tone, “Oh no! Don’t ruin my day, it’s not like it hasn’t been unbearable enough!”

Matt let go of Mello’s wrist and just stared at him, a horrified face with the same expression, Mello noticed, as when he saw him earlier that day.

Mello, for what was probably the first and only time in his life, shut himself up.

“It isn’t your fault.” Mello was going to snort a reply but Matt continued, “Mels, it’s not your fault she was killed. It’s mine.”

Mello froze, expressionless.

“She wanted to surprise you…”

Mello’s face was heating up.

“…and she wanted my help,” Matt continued.

What was he saying?

“Look at the keychain.” He pointed toward Mello’s hand.

“Stop your fucking mind games, Matt, I don’t want to…”

“Damn it, Mels!!!” Matt yelled, “For once in your godforsaken life just listen to me. Look at her fucking keychain! Really look!”

Mello looked down at the keychain, eyes wide, scrutinizing it harder than on his birthday when he returned home. In the darkness in which he discovered the gift, he never noticed the seam in the plastic. He squeezed it and it popped open. Inside was another note, on the same paper from that day, wrapped around a lemon-yellow plastic ring, like one of those 25 cent ones from an arcade.

“Life is bitter, but you make it sweet. Mels, my bittersweet little lemon boy. Will you marry me?”

There was not a word that followed. Only silence. Mello collapsed to the ground. He couldn’t breathe initially, but once the trapped air found an opening from his lungs, the blood-curdling sob that ripped through his vocal cords scared all the pigeons in the area enough to immediately fly away. Matt ran over attempting to comfort his best friend but stopped in his tracks when Mello suddenly went silent,

“Matt.” He looked up at him. His glassy, tear-filled eyes were thin, piercing, accusing.

“Mels, you’re scaring me.”

Mello continued, still melted into the ground, “I think you ought to tell me…”

“What…?”

“You need to tell me what happened.” He paused. “You said this was your fault.”

Matt gulped.

Mello stood. “What did you mean?”

“Mels…”

Mello spat in his face, “WHAT DID YOU MEAN!” At this moment, in a spur of adrenaline and hopelessness, Mello remembered his gun holstered on his shoulder, and drew it. He immediately pointed it at Matt. “Tell me what happened. Now.” He mimicked Matt’s commanding tone from many hours earlier. It was time for Matt to get a taste of his own medicine.

“Mello, think about this. Put the gun down. Just put the gun down.”

“Do you think I have anything left to lose? Tell me what they did to her!”

Seeing no other option, and gutted that Mello no longer seemed to value his oldest friend, Matt inhaled and began. “As you saw, she had plans to propose to you. She’d been planning it for months. And she wanted my help.”

The expression of flaming jealousy on Mello’s face was evident.

“Oh, Mello… you know in your heart it’s not like that.” Matt tilted his head, spilling with disappointment. “I’ve known you since we both used to sneak out of Wammy’s House to steal from the candy shop down the street when we were 8. Do you remember that? Don’t tell me you’ve lost faith in me now.” Matt was almost in tears himself.

“You’re not finished. Keep explaining.” Mello took a step closer with his weapon.

Matt obliged. “After months of preparation at the apartment, we had a whole extravagant plan all set up for you.” He paused and looked down. “Mels, you would’ve loved it. But as usual for our unfortunate lives, things didn’t go according to plan. One of those days I met with her, I must’ve been followed… by them… because right before I ran to see you earlier today, I got a call from her. And I…” Matt’s voice dissolved. He couldn’t keep going.

“And you what? What did you hear?” Mello prodded him more, shaking the pistol at him. The tone in his voice was terrifyingly angry but his expression was utterly heartbroken.

Matt spoke though his tears. “I don’t know what they did to her, but part of me doesn’t want to. She was screaming. Crying. Calling out for you. Praying you would swoop in guns ablaze and save her. But then suddenly there was silence, and the line cut out. And all I could do was nothing. Absolutely fucking nothing. That’s when I ran to get you.”

“Mello, I’m so sorry.” Matt was losing control, “This was… was all… all my fault.” Matt broke, crumbling to the ground under the realization that he had gotten her killed. And the worst part was that he might have lost his lifelong friend as well. “Mello, you know I’ve never been as diligent as you. Even back at Wammy’s that was the case. I fucked up, I know.”

Mello had a death threat written in his growing pitch-black pupils. He strutted closer to Matt and put the barrel of the gun right up to his forehead. “You. You got her killed. This is your penance.”

Matt looked up at Mello. “I did. I was the one who got her killed. And I will never forgive myself for that.”

Mello cocked the hammer of the weapon.

Matt’s mind had come to a surprising conclusion. That he deserved to die for his carelessness. He didn’t want to, but it was a sacrifice he would willing give to his best friend.

Mello put his finger on the trigger.

“Do it.” Matt whispered.

Mello hesitated.

Matt finally spoke what he had been thinking. “It’s okay, Mels. This is what I deserve.” Matt looked up at Mello and closed his wet and swollen eyes, accepting his fate.

Mello counted down in his head.

“3” Something about this felt wrong, but what else was he supposed to do?

“2” She was gone, this was the only way to put things right. Right?

“1” No. There was only one way to put things back to the way he wanted them to be...well, almost.

“0” Ok, now. Mello’s finger began to tighten around the trigger, but not before he pointed the barrel under his own chin.

“Mels, no!” Matt, in feeling the firearm move from his head, instinctually and in one swift motion stood and grabbed Mello’s arm at the wrist and yanked it away, angling the barrel forward and away from Mello’s head before he could realize, let alone react.

BANG!!!

Mello, with his eyes still closed, was stunned. Frozen. In shock. Still slightly dissociated from the pain of reality. He was still alive. Why? He was beyond confused. Everything had happened so fast. He had expected the be consumed by the darkness of his nightmares by now. Or at the very least be writhing in bloodied pain on the ground. But he was fine. Somehow, he was fine.

Slowly, he came back to his senses and opened his eyes. Mello saw Matt’s terrified face and realized what had happened. In an effort to save Mello from his impulsive decisions, as Matt did often, he had also saved his life. The barrel of the gun was angled up. Matt was hugging Mello’s forearm to his chest, pointing the barrel of the gun up into the air. Seeing that angle, Mello had realized that in firing the weapon the bullet had grazed Matt’s ear. Only an inch to the left and it would’ve taken his ear clean off. Three inches over and it would’ve killed him.

Matt knew logically his ear had been injured, but he was too preoccupied by the high of adrenaline to register any feeling, including pain. Or even to notice the ringing in his left ear. A few droplets of crimson dripped from his ear onto Mello's hand at a steady pace, resembling the accelerated rate of his short, shallow, and hyperventilating breaths. For the two of them, time froze.

Surprisingly, Mello was the first to break the silence. "It should've been me," he choked out.

Matt slowly massaged Mello's hand to loosen his grip on the handle.

"It was supposed to be me." His eyes sunk down, defeated. "Matty, it should've been me."

Matt interrupted, "But it wasn't." He gingerly removed the firearm from Mello's grasp.

"Huh?"

"It wasn't you. And regardless of who it should’ve been, you are the one standing here in front of me. You. Not her."

Mello sunk to the ground once again, but slowly this time as if not to disturb the ground below.

Matt kneeled to join him at his sunken level. He continued. "As much as we both didn’t, and don’t want to accept it, she's gone, and you are the one left to remember her. What do you think she would say about this insane, and frankly idiotic, plan of yours? Your initial intention to kill me? Or to kill yourself? How dare you! How dare you, Mels! She loved you more than you will ever understand, and this is how you treat her memory?"

"I do understand."

"No you don't. If you loved her the way she did to you, you wouldn't have forced yourself to make a reckless choice like that. Newsflash! It shouldn't have even been a decision that ever crossed your mind.”

Mello knew he had a point even if he didn’t want to admit it.

“Think about it. Shoot yourself? You would've left me all alone. Fine, but a real dick move, Mels.” He paused. “But now think about if you chose me. You would have to face the world on your own from here on out. A world where both she and I would be gone.” Matt took a breath to slow the pace of his words. “I hope you really understand that I love you too, Mels. Not in the way that she did, but goddamn it you are basically my brother.”

Mello could never remember having family, but maybe he could see Matt as his brother.

“Please just let me help you! You've always had the smartest and quickest mind, second only to Near, but I’m the one who figured out how to keep those gears up there oiled and turning." He gestured toward Mello's temple.

Mello was re-remembering all the occasions Matt had been there for him.

Every time he failed to score better than Near on an exam at Wammy's, Matt kept encouraging him to study harder.

After they ran away, every time he picked a fight in the underground too large for him to handle alone, Matt was always there to back him up.

And every time he couldn't comprehend his feelings, especially those for her, Matt would sit awake with him into the earliest hours of the morning and help him talk it out until he calmed down. Mello stopped. Did he take him for granted?

"I know you better than you know yourself. Maybe even better than she did. Though likely not by much." Matt half-heartily laughed but continued. "I’m aware I can't tell you what to do from here, you've never let anyone boss you around including me, I know. But now you need to make another choice." Matt outstretched both hands. One holding the gun, one holding the open keychain. "Decide. And by God, remember her when you do."

Mello eyed both his options but hesitated. Not because he needed more time to decide, but instead because he knew what he really wanted was not something Matt would take too well.

Matt forced the options closer to Mello. Matt could see those well-oiled gears turning at full speed.

Mello reconsidered. The keychain or the gun? Should he force himself to remember her or choose to forget? Should he choose to take Matt's hand and continue fighting, or end it all? Right here, right now. Living without her would be so hard, so painful. But would that be preferable to those memories of her ceasing to exist? The gears in his brain were turning so fast the friction was burning in his head.

"And Mello," his thought process was interrupted by Matt’s words, "if you choose what I know you want to, I will have no choice but to say goodbye and leave you here. For good. If you are that broken and helpless, there’s nothing I can do to help fix you. If you choose that gun, I know you don't even want to fix yourself.”

The gears somehow were turning faster. The heat was becoming unbearable.

Matt continued. “But don't you dare admit to me you are broken beyond repair. Is this how the one and only Mihael Keehl goes out? Not fighting the fight, but by his own hand? And out of what? Shame? Guilt? Pain? You were the unquenchable flame that all the oceans could never suffocate. The fighting spirit even the slimmest of odds couldn't deter. And the one friend I had that never once gave up, and by proxy helped me to do the same.”

Mello had never heard Matt speak to him like this before.

“Don't become a hypocrite to the lessons you taught me, instead let me teach you one in return. The Mello I knew wouldn't give up. He would never even consider it. But the question is, does he even exist anymore?"

Mello looked up to his best friend’s hopeful glare. The heat in his head was burning through to his eyes. He had decided.

Glancing between both of Matt’s outstretched hands, he stood up and took one.

Matt returned a faint and relieved smile and fisted the choice into Mello’s palm. Mello clung to it, crushingly, and squeezed his eyes shut.

He was hoping, and most importantly choosing, to remember her. Not the way the light left her eyes and the way her story ended, but the way the light in her eyes was always there until then. He would remember the whole story of them starting from the very beginning and in this very park. How poetic. Even then her eyes would beam at him every time she looked into his, and especially every time he came home late from a long stretch away from home.

The memory of her lively eyes coupled with the reflection of the moonlight that brought her beauty to a heart-stopping height was now his drug. It was his medicine to keep him fighting. To fight the pain he felt in experiencing those memories, but choosing to embrace them anyway.

Her words ran around his mind

"We’re gonna live forever, you and me, remember?"

Mello decided he wasn't ready to give up on that yet. He may not have been a man who could expect forever, but he could damn well fight for it. And he would. Until his very last moment.

Matt draped the arm of Mello's exhausted frame over his shoulders, careful not to touch his wounded ear. The two of them walked toward home, just as it began to rain, cleansing the way for a new beginning for them both.

…

Years later, as Mello sat in the driver’s seat of the semi and Kiyomi Takada was stuck suspiciously quiet in the trailer in the back, he watched consequences of their kidnapping plan unfold on the small monitor sitting on the dash.

The red Camaro came to a spinning and squealing halt on the highway, surrounded by Takada’s armed bodyguards. Matt exited the car. Mello couldn’t make out what Matt said once he put his hands up to surrender but he hoped it wasn’t something cocky again. But before he could even complete the thought, a shower of gunfire ripped through Matt’s body. And he fell. He was left bloody and mangled on the street. And that cigarette that always seemed to be in his mouth finally fell to the asphalt and went out.

He knew this plan was suicide, but somehow, they both had naively hoped for better.

"…Matt. I didn't think they'd kill you… I'm so sorry."

He continued driving, obsessively rubbing his thumb on the inside of his left ring finger.

His mind wandered slightly. With Matt now also gone, his thoughts also drifted to her.

"I wonder what you're doing right now," he murmured remembering and hoping that she'd still want a forever with him after everything he'd done. These thoughts continued to meander as his drove. But eventually they were abruptly interrupted.

*Thump THUMP*

Mello knew exactly what this meant. "A heart attack!? …Kira. But how?” Mello’s eyes once again grew wide, but he almost smiled this time.

"I guess I'll get to find out what you’re up to soon enough." He answered his own question from earlier. He struggled to remove his glove to expose the fingers on his left hand and then fully smiled

"I can't wait to see you again," he spoke sweetly to the ring on his finger, his eyes staying locked onto the plastic charm on its yellow band. He'd worn it ever since that day. And he wanted it to be the last thing his eyes ever saw.

As if in a morbid game of tag, the darkness Mello had been running from in his nightmares finally caught up and consumed him. He fell forward, unable to handle the wheel, crashing the semi into an abandoned church just off the side of the road. Though his body was going limp and muscles relaxed, he kept his gaze on the ring, hoping… no… praying he would get to see her eyes again.

The darkness had fully engulfed him now, but it wasn't as suffocating as he remembered in his dreams. Instead of cold restraint, it felt like a hot embrace, almost welcoming.

Maybe Mello was falling asleep. Or maybe he was waking up. Who knows. But either way one thing was for certain, her lemon boy was finally coming home… forever.