Mello has always been intense. You knew that from the very beginning. Even when you first met him, his mind was constantly moving a hundred miles a minute, his thoughts crowded by Kira, Near, plans stacked on plans, all of it consuming himf rom the inside out. being his girlfriend meant understanding that he wasn't fully present. Part of his mind was always somewhere else.

And even if his attention wasn't trained on you, though he feels like it should be, you stayed. Somehow. Amidst all the smoke and gunpowder, you carved out a space for yourself in his world. You learned to live with the trouble he was always in. He loves you openly with the same ferocity he chased bad guys with. He didn't always say it out loud, but you felt it in his kisses and his grip on your hand.

After the Kira ordeal started to quiet down, just barely, you expected Mello to fill the void with another mission. To infiltrate the system of the Japanese police, again. Taunt Near, again. Just another reckless goal of his. But instead, something shifted. Your boyfriend who used to vanish for days at a time began to linger a little extra long in your shared apartment. He held you longer, touched you a little more like he was trying to memorize you all over again.

And when he did leave, for a good week or more, he was so clearly reluctant about it. He'd usually be up and out the door really fast, but when you started mentioning the fact that he would've been out at a certain time, he just brushes it off. Says that it's alright and just holds you from behind, pressing kisses to the nape of your neck.

Turns out that once the noise in his head dulled, the silence, even with the guys he worked with, made him realize just how deeply he missed you whenever you two were away from each other. The long nights he used to spend plotting and planning were now filled with restless thoughts of how you felt in his hands, your smile, the names you called him. He couldn't be away for much longer.

Today was no different. The last time you saw him was just over a week ago. In the middle of cooking a meal for yourself, the lock to your apartment turns with the force of a storm. Peeling his gloves off of his fingers and tossing them somewhere he couldn't care less about, shrugging off his jacket like he's been running to you his whole time.

"Fuck, I missed you." He says before you can even greet him all the way, his hands going up to cup your face, thumbs pressing into your cheeks like it was the only way to ground him. "Can't stay any longer in that hidden... underground shit. I need to be with you." It's like he's been holding his breath since he last saw you.