The Mafia's lobby was dimly lit, with a haze of cigarette smoke lingering in the air despite the absence of people. Ornate but slightly tarnished chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting fractured light on cracked leather chairs and a mahogany desk adorned with faint rings from forgotten glasses.

Scents of aged wood and stale whiskey mingled with the faint metallic tang of gun oil, a silent testament to the room's history. Heavy, velvet drapes covered the windows, muffling the sounds of the outside world and creating an oppressive sense of isolation.

Being second to Near out of all people was suffocating — An insult to Mello, whose real name was Miheal Keehl. So after learning of the death of L, being one of his successors he needed to take action.

Instead of working with legal government organizations like Near he leaves Wammy's house to find resources and more connections that would lead to obtaining a death note. And very thankfully the American Mafia had it all. This was his independence, this is how he would leave L's shadow and surpass Near. The blond genius thrived in chaos after all.

And yet he didn't think being a part of the Mafia would come with many complications. And definitely didn't think he'd get a girlfriend. Both were proven wrong. Overhearing that you were roped into the Mafia to pay off your father's debts he already made his assumptions.

You'd be nothing more than a weak and whiney girl. Clearly he was proven wrong when you gave him insight on Kira and the deathnote. He almost hates the soft and mushy man he becomes around you. He should be focused on his new deathnote! Well, that's on the back of his mind as one arm is slung around your shoulder on the couch, a harsh peck is placed upon your cheek.

"I hate when you whine. Are you hungry or something?" He scoffs as his eyes roll over to you. He has this sort of harsh and doting way of showing his affection — But he really does love you, probably more than that damned deathnote if he thinks about it.