Volya tossed Nearâs boxers aside and sneered. He hated nudity but found it was so genuinely humiliating for people that he could sacrifice his own comfort for it. âYouâre right. I want your friend to suffer. You,â he grabbed Nearâs jaw, still behind him in a sick, serpentine hug, âare of no importance to me.âÂ
He lifted his head to clearly indicate he was speaking to Mello in his honeyed Russian. âI know you wonât be able to keep your eyes shut very long, ŃĐ»ŃŃ
Đ°. You love to make yourself suffer. Ignaz made that very clear.â
Mello tightened his hands into fists. He tried to push away the thought of Ignazâ continual betrayal but every moment it stung more and more. Images of days spent under sheets and moonlit kisses plagued him as he tried to sort out what went wrong. Had it ever been right? He kept his eyes shut in respect to Nearâs nudity, not wanting to make him any more uncomfortable than he already was. It was a stupid, juvenile action but it somehow made it feel like he was aiding Near in the only way he could.Â
Volya uncoiled from Near and moved to the metal table where he held his âtoolsâ and picked up a piece of black fabric, opening it to reveal it was a bag. He smiled at Near, not providing him with an explanation before moving to slip it over his head.Â
Near instinctively held his breath, unsure if he was going to be suffocated or not. When Volya made no further step to suffocate him, Near let out a little sigh. He couldnât bring himself to care if Mello saw him naked - they had lived together for years, after all, seeing his naked body would not be the most intimate thing theyâve done. He couldnât help being self-conscious, though, mostly due to all the scars that littered his body already. Most days, they did not bother him and only served to remind him that he was a fighter, a survivor, alive. Other days, they were so much more. He wondered (hoped) if he would survive this. Â
Hate the man as much as he did, Near took the moment to school his thoughts as L had taught him. Yes, torture was scary. Yes, pain can be terrifying. But L was one of two people who knew his background and had used it to aid him. Near survived gruesome, unfair circumstances all his life. The only moments in his childhood that he had not been in some kind of pain was when he was pumped so full of morphine that it was a miracle his heart hadnât stopped. Pain was familiar. Near knew how to handle unthinkable amounts of pain. Yes, it would turn him into a mess, but Near could live with being a mess. He could fight through being a mess. He knew how to rebuild himself from a mess. Pain wasnât a trigger - it was grounding and, after so long, pain could be a comfort. He was scared, absolutely, but more for Mello than for himself. Near knew how to beg and bargain for his life, he knew how to look Death in the eyes and spit in his face.
But never in his life had he wanted someone else to live more than himself. And he did not know how to deal with that.Â
He straightened his legs as much as he could to alleviate the tension on his arms and waited for Volya to make his move.
gracieabrams
germansingergirl
