[And passive comments are enabling compliments to those who are receptive to things that preen and prick at a confidence so fragile that thin glass holds an unmistakable density in comparison. No, Mello isn't like the rest — never was — and he's gone above and beyond in this life and the last to prove just that. Always teetering on the edge of self-doubt, the acquiescent statement brings a tip to the corner of his mouth; if Greed has known humans for centuries and centuries, he's never known anything like the too-human blonde thing that follows the demon's movements with eyes sharp enough to cleave even when the edges are blurred, when Mello's movements are too slow and comfortable despite the throb and sting that will take far longer to heal than he'd prefer.]
[Because when the haze wears off, the memory of discomfort will return in lingering soreness and that is when he'll know the true extent of what they've done here, tonight. For the best: his skin would have healed over too quickly with the abilities with which the Gods have both blessed and cursed him. Better to let ink mark and blacken, let human skin take on the stain in the way it was meant to be.]
[Whatever comes after, well.]
Hey.
[Because influence and overt confidence streak to a human's eyes in spades beyond average perception — the same interest piqued what seems so long ago when Mello moved through throngs of humans and monsters alike with a confidence that could have gotten him killed. Some would call it ignorance, but nothing is ever accomplished without discarding the very base of caution and fear in favor of exploration.]
[It takes more effort that he expects to push his body upright, even if one hand clenches the bottle with a sureness that will prevent it from slipping out of languid fingers. His head will pound for this tomorrow; he'll tell himself he was weak to cheat with the bottle nearly empty in such a short span of time, but for now? It dulls what it needs to dull, and when Mello slips to his feet to follow in some show of unabashed curiosity, it's stubborn pride alone that keeps him from swaying where he stands.]
Tell me something.
[Tone softer than usual at the edges and if there are pinprick blood droplets peeking through ink over abused skin, he doesn't notice. Not when his focus is limited to the creature who is so far beyond anything he's known retreating with a lack of care that would raise Mello's caution if he were sharper, more aware. One step, another, and it takes a conscious effort to keep his direction in line as he follows the demon with an unshakable refusal to be dismissed and forgotten.]
no subject
[Because when the haze wears off, the memory of discomfort will return in lingering soreness and that is when he'll know the true extent of what they've done here, tonight. For the best: his skin would have healed over too quickly with the abilities with which the Gods have both blessed and cursed him. Better to let ink mark and blacken, let human skin take on the stain in the way it was meant to be.]
[Whatever comes after, well.]
Hey.
[Because influence and overt confidence streak to a human's eyes in spades beyond average perception — the same interest piqued what seems so long ago when Mello moved through throngs of humans and monsters alike with a confidence that could have gotten him killed. Some would call it ignorance, but nothing is ever accomplished without discarding the very base of caution and fear in favor of exploration.]
[It takes more effort that he expects to push his body upright, even if one hand clenches the bottle with a sureness that will prevent it from slipping out of languid fingers. His head will pound for this tomorrow; he'll tell himself he was weak to cheat with the bottle nearly empty in such a short span of time, but for now? It dulls what it needs to dull, and when Mello slips to his feet to follow in some show of unabashed curiosity, it's stubborn pride alone that keeps him from swaying where he stands.]
Tell me something.
[Tone softer than usual at the edges and if there are pinprick blood droplets peeking through ink over abused skin, he doesn't notice. Not when his focus is limited to the creature who is so far beyond anything he's known retreating with a lack of care that would raise Mello's caution if he were sharper, more aware. One step, another, and it takes a conscious effort to keep his direction in line as he follows the demon with an unshakable refusal to be dismissed and forgotten.]